


Divine Artifice

by Jessiy



Series: Experimental Amortentia [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amortentia, BAMF Draco Malfoy, Conflicted Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy Angst, Drama, Enemies to Lovers, Even though Draco thinks its more, Experimental Amortentia, F/M, Falling In Love, Fate, Forbidden Love, Grey Narcissa Black, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter Friendship, In the Beginning, Jealous Draco Malfoy, Kingsley likes what he sees, Not the normal side effects, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Hermione Granger, Possessive Draco Malfoy, Smut, Still follows book 6, doesn't start out that way though, for major events, split POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-02 06:08:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 156,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19193266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessiy/pseuds/Jessiy
Summary: Sixth year isn't going the way Draco imagined it would. His mission was complex, and he felt the weight of an executioner's ax hovering. But destiny had other plans for him when a mislabeled bottle of Amortentia changed everything. His story is one about personal redemption, his heart, and reclaiming his family's honor.Hermione had to do rounds alone, again. Being a prefect was hard but rewarding work. Usually. But a chance encounter with Draco Malfoy and an unidentified potion that she just knew should be confiscated, made her look at him in a new unexpected light. Though an antidote was quickly given, the accident drew her into the complex world of Draco Malfoy, even though the war threatened to separate them.One small encounter that changed the course of the entire war and the lives of two enemies.Mostly canon through book 6, some canonical moments from book 7





	1. Experimental Amortentia

**Author's Note:**

> This is Volume I of the Amortentia Series. Each volume is a separate multi-chapter story with a new pairing and can be read in any order.  
> A huge thank you to CJRed who Alpha read this story for me. Who also warned me that she was planning on chaining me to the computer until its complete.  
> I know I said I wanted to finish Lies of Good and Evil first before posting a new story but this one captivated me and wouldn't let me go.

**Chapter One**

Draco leaned back against a crumbling tower of artifacts and held his head in despair. There was no way he was going to be able to fix the cabinet, no way he was going to save his family, no way he was going to save himself. Tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes unchecked and he nearly choked on the sob that clawed its way up from the depths of his churning fear-filled belly.

He was a dead man.

Looking back on his life he regretted. He regretted not doing everything he wanted. Instead, he had followed his father's dogma as if it were holy. As if it would bring him somewhere much greater than where he was now.

Admittedly, his father was feared, respected even, and when he was young, the Malfoys stood at the top, basking in prestige and influence. Draco had no idea the cost of such a thing and had lived in a safe world where that kind of power was always theirs. But now he knew. That, that type of fear and power was born of the terror the Malfoys wielded in the first war. Carved in the hearts of those who dared rise against their Master. As for him, the line was expected to continue its nefarious dealings.  _He_ was expected to continue the tradition by serving the Dark Lord.

For a long time, he wanted that recognition and power, craved it, and vowed he would make his father proud. But that was before the Dark Lord exacted their punishment for Lucius' failure in the Department of Mysteries. Rise together, die together. As a family.

Draco took a shaky breath, struggling not to sob like the first year he felt like. He was drowning, barely treading water. Gulping in great lungsful of water with each breath. How was he supposed to do this? How was he supposed to kill Dumbledore of all people?

What if the cabinet couldn't be fixed? His mission wasn't the cabinet. His mission was to kill Dumbledore. Maybe, he should think of other ways and means to get the job done.

There was a necklace in Borgin and Burkes that would curse the wearer. Perhaps that would work. How to get it inside the school, was the hardest part. With a sinking feeling, he knew deep down he would have to perform an unforgivable to do it. If he Imperiused Rosmerta, the barmaid at the Three Broomsticks, he would have access to students and teachers alike.

Whatever he decided; he would have to do it alone. There was no help to turn to… the Dark Lord's warning still burned in whip marks crisscrossed on his back. Do not trust anyone. Do not seek help. Do not fail. Embedded marks layered over the once pristine skin that were still healing. They had scabbed over, cracked, and itched like hell. He could only imagine what the ruin of his back looked like. Too many of his fine white Oxfords had been tossed in the bin, irrevocably ruined by the secretions.

For one angry, crazy moment he wanted to let it all go. Let himself die and take his parents down with him.  _They_  did this to him.  _They_  didn't protect him.  _Their_  failures put him here in this situation. Why should he carry them on his back?

He scrubbed at his face pushing his terror to the back of his mind and tried to adopt the stoic emotionless mask in which he was trained to hide behind. Never would he let anyone hurt his mother. His loving terrified mother who also was living her worst nightmare.

Her husband's master took over her home, held her life hostage, had doomed her only son to death. Whatever loyalty she once felt for the movement, was gone. Draco Malfoy wasn't the only one to just want this whole nightmare to end.

Unwilling to admit the next thought out loud, he clenched his teeth. In fact, he struggled not to put the thought into coherent images or words at all. The one thought that would definitely get him killed was wanting Harry Potter to win.

Draco looked up and let the rest of his tears dry on his cheeks. Now that he was back under control, he prepared to call it a night. He would come tomorrow to continue fixing the vanishing cabinet. There was nothing more he could accomplish that night, not with his emotions all over the place.

Preparing to push off the cold stone he sat on, he put his hand to the floor. Tinkling echoed around the cavernous chamber as his fingers disturbed the vials that sat innocuously hidden.

Several rolled into the aisle. Most were empty crystal, yet others were filled with familiar pastes and potions. It was a single vial's contents swirled violently in rainbow iridescence alone that caught his eye. It was mesmerizing. Never had he seen anything like it before.

He picked up the opal-colored potion and turned the small tube until the yellowed label faced him.

_Morgana's Magical Elixir- a magic-boosting miracle_

Draco snorted. It sounded exactly like the ridiculous potions that made the rounds during exam time. Regardless, he slipped the potion into his pocket, intending on deconstructing it on the off chance it would be useful to him.

**HGHG**

Hermione turned another corner on the seventh floor, muttering angrily to herself. Merlin help anyone who was out after curfew. Her patrol partner,  _Ron_ , had flaked. Again. Why he was made a prefect, she would never understand. He never took it seriously. He never helped out. He didn't even know he could take points off misbehaving students!

Hermione drew in a deep calming breath through her nose. Perhaps that last was just as well. Ron was a good guy, but he had deep-rooted prejudices and she could just imagine him taking points left and right from Slytherin. She rolled her eyes. Not even Malfoy did that.

A shoe scuffle made her freeze and she lifted her lit wand higher. "Who's there?"

Robes rustling against the stone were her only answer. She narrowed her eyes, searching the areas near the walls for any indication of disillusionment.

"I know you are there! Come out!" she demanded. Nothing moved. No one answered. Her nostrils flared in agitation and while inhaling, caught a whiff of something. Something familiar. Why was it so familiar?

The scent was getting stronger, swirling around her, making her skin prickle. Though the scent itself was pleasant, it put her on edge. Her body tensed, and she struggled not to cast a stunner.

"Accio," she summoned something, anything, that would tell her who was in the halls. Her reaction had been confusing, concerning. And she feared she faced not a student, but someone whose allegiance would put her life in danger.

A small pearlescent potion flew at her from the left, followed by muttered curses as whoever tried to get past her made a grab for the potion. His disillusionment failed as he finally grabbed the vial out of the air. And Hermione stood still, surprised as Draco Malfoy appeared before her. His hand was extended, fisted around the vial near her chest. His body was larger than hers, imposing in its nearness. She could feel his panicked breath on her face. When did he get so much bigger than her?

"Malfoy?" she exclaimed in shocked surprise.

"Granger," he sneered.

"What are you doing out after curfew?"

"None of your damn business,"

"I am on patrol. It is definitely my business!" she asserted.

"Then take points. Fuck if I care," he said as he made to brush past her.

Hermione stepped into his path, refusing to let him go without first knowing why he was out.

"What is that?" she asked, gesturing to the potion still in his fist.

"Nothing you need to worry about," his angry grey eyes met her brown ones, holding her frozen with the depth of their fury.

She tried to pluck the vial from his hand.

"What do you think you are doing?" he demanded pulling his arm easily out of her reach, high above her head.

"Is it a banned substance? Is that why you won't let me see it? Should I call for Professor Dumbledore?" She demanded.

"No," Draco said in a near panic. "This is nothing like that,"

"Then show me!"

"No!"

"Malfoy!"

"Get your hands off me!"

"Not until you show me what you are hiding!"

"Get off!" Draco yelled as Hermione leaped to reach his hand that was clasped tightly around the potion bottle. She lost her balance and instead of jumping and grabbing his arm, she fell into him, causing both of them to crash to the floor. The back of Draco's head hit the flagstone and he laid there blinking, trying to clear the stars from his vision. Hermione was laying on top of him, looking at the potion that had shattered on impact. A potion that was now seeping into the small cut on the back of Draco Malfoy's head.

"Oh Merlin!" she whispered, face turning green. She reached out a single shaking hand to lightly probe the wound. "What was the potion?"

Draco shook his head weakly, groaning.

"Malfoy! What was in that potion?" she demanded frantically.

"Granger?" he asked dazed as his vision finally cleared.

"What kind of potion was it? You are covered in it!" she continued.

"I don't know," he murmured. He was focused on her face, the fact that she was laying on top of him, her gentle fingers probing the back of his head, her curves pressed against the planes of his body. The fact that her sweet thighs were straddling his.

"I'm taking you to Madam Pomfrey," She wiped her potion coated fingers on her robe.

"No," he croaked. He lifted his hand and traced the curve of her cheek. Reverently, as if she were the most delicate porcelain in the entire world.

Her startled gaze snapped to his. "What are you doing?"

"You are so beautiful," the corner of his mouth lifted and his eyes gentled to a veritable caress.

"That's it… Hospital wing," she said. It would have been obvious to a blind man that something was wrong with Malfoy.

Hermione tried to push away from him, but he grabbed her wrist before she could even get off her knees.

"What are you doing?" she asked warily.

"Don't leave," he pleaded, his silver eyes bored into her very soul. Every emotion laid naked on his face; agony shot with desperation.

She gave him the strangest look. What the hell was going on? "I'm not leaving. We are both leaving."

"Together?"

"Sure," she said slowly, becoming more and more worried with each passing second.

He gave her the sweetest, most trusting, smile she had ever seen. For a moment, her heart sped up. The smile transformed his whole face. He didn't look pinched, afraid, or angry. He was beautiful.

Hermione tore her gaze away, landing on the scattered remains of the broken glass. With a flick of her wand, the bottle reformed and flew into her hand. The label read Morgana's Magical elixir- a magical boosting miracle, but the edge had curled up, not having mended perfectly. Hermione peeled it off, showing the original label beneath. It was handwritten in a gorgeous script. Experimental Amortentia.

Bile rose up in her throat and she looked back at the boy who was now under the thrall of this love potion. She knew she had to tread very carefully. Amortentia had strange effects that could vary from barely noticeable to severe. The one thing all the books warned was how resistant someone doused in Amortentia would be to being told that their love wasn't real or that they needed a cure for it. Hermione pocketed the now empty vial and patted his hand that was still wound around her wrist.

"Let's get up," she said quietly, trying not to show her panic.

"Okay," he agreed, letting his hand fall to her thigh. He watched her like a falcon stalking prey. Nothing was more interesting to him than her, not with  _that_  potion in his system.

His hand gently rubbed the top of her knee, caressing the exposed skin as her skirt rode to midthigh, something covetous glittering in his eyes. All at once she flushed crimson, noticing for the first time her position. She had straddled him at the groin, and she was not unaware of his harder, leaner body beneath her. Malfoy was all male, potent and virile, a veritable powder keg between her thighs. With all the grace of a newborn filly, Hermione gained her feet, panicked more from her reaction than his. At least he had an excuse.

Malfoy stood, closing the gap between them, standing way too close for her comfort. He was in her space, stealing her air, fluttering his fruity breath over her face. It was everywhere, his smell.

Once they were both standing, Hermione plastered on a shaky smile and said, "take a walk with me?"

"Anywhere," he smiled again. He reached for her, and thread his fingers with hers, bringing their twined hands to his chest, holding them over his heart.

"I think Madam Pomfrey should look at the cut on the back of your head," Hermione said gently, trying not to alarm his potion addled mind. If this was Malfoy in love, she could see why girls would chase after him. This side of him was miles away from his usual treatment of her. As if he was a whole other person. She couldn't help but feel a tinge of disappointment though. His feelings weren't real, and they would never be. He was under the effects of a love potion.

She swallowed hard. They were enemies. Rivals in the classroom. He called her names, fought with Harry, believed in his family's superiority, supported Voldemort! She shouldn't  _want_ his affection! But faced with the force of what he could give a girl, her traitorous, closet-romantic heart fluttered. And her mind struggled to silence the whispers that told her that she could save him, fix him.

"I'm fine," he said indulgently.

"It would make me feel better," Hermione insisted.

He snorted and shook his head, his smile still firmly in place before acquiescing. "alright,"

She took the first step and soon they were on their way to the infirmary side by side, her hand still clasped over his rapidly beating heart. The silence between them lay heavy and smothering. At least for Hermione. Malfoy, on the other hand, seemed perfectly content to walk with her, neither saying a word.

"Wait," He murmured, pulling her to an abrupt stop.

"What's wrong?" She breathed, looking around for the reason, any reason he would all of a sudden be on full alert.

Putting his finger on his lips, he indicated she should be quiet, and she gave her nod of understanding. He flashed her a quick, cocky smile. And she stood there blindsided as he eased the infirmary door open with his shoulder.

He looked back, only once, and Hermione felt her traitorous heart flutter, hand still clutched in his.

It was really hard to hate Malfoy when he was like this.

Hermione tamped down her feelings and focused on the two major things in front of her. First and most importantly, Malfoy was under the effect of a love potion and second, he was not going to be pleased after he ingested the antidote.

Both were really good reasons not to make more of this than it was. It wasn't anything anyway. Not in any real, tangible way.

Malfoy let out a breath and visibly relaxed, pulling Hermione through the infirmary doors.

The room was quiet in a way Hermione had never seen before. There was no one there, not even crickets to chirp their lonely song. Always there were others in those beds, the matron bustling to and fro. But not this time, not now.

It was maddening, the silence. Why now? Where was Madam Pomfrey?

"Hermione?" Malfoy murmured as he pulled her closer, looking at her instead of the room, where his focus should have been.

Hermione whipped her head around and looked at Malfoy, startled. "What?"

"I said," he began with a broadening smirk. "that Madam Pomfrey seems to be out. You will just have to play nurse and heal me."

Hermione choked on air. All she could imagine at that moment was a white nurse outfit. The muggle, inappropriate kind that some of the more daring older girls wore on Halloween. Too short, too sexy, too… everything.

Malfoy sat on the edge of the nearest cot and guided Hermione to stand between his open thighs. He was looking at her as if she held the answer to everything. As if one word from her could make or break his day. She could feel her pulse pound in her throat, her whole body on edge, taut with expectation and curiosity.

He was going to hate her even more once he was given the antidote. She knew it. And yet, she couldn't stop, couldn't step away. She wanted this closeness like she wanted to devour the Hogwarts Library.

Hermione raised a shaking hand to the blood matted hair on the back of his head and flinched when he rested his forehead on her stomach. A deep warm chuckle told her that he noticed her every move and when she flinched, he took that as some sort of positive sign that she was affected by his touch.

And he wouldn't be completely wrong.

Instead of focusing on the improbable, she forced a business-like air. Probing the back of his head, she was at least relieved to see that he had healed. Then frowned, thinking that he healed too fast to be normal. Ridiculously fast without a healing potion anyway.

"Your head has fully healed," she said full of confusion, carding her fingers through the blood matted hair.

"Mmmm," he said in agreement, leaning into her fingers like a cat.

"How is that possible?"

"Wandless magic,"

"You know wandless magic for healing?" She couldn't help the skepticism in her voice.

Malfoy chuckled again. "What? Are you surprised? I am only second behind you in classes."

"Even I can't do that!"

"You also don't have a madman who took over your family and home. You don't have to get stronger as fast as possible because if you don't, your family will suffer first and foremost,"

"You think I don't have worries?" she asked shrilly. "You think I don't know I am hunted? That I am a target? That any moment the ministry could send someone with apologies for the deaths of my parents?"

"You are brilliant, and I have every faith that you will be alive at the end of whatever is coming. Me on the other hand, I doubt I will live the year out."

"Your parents surely wouldn't allow that," Hermione said acerbically, thinking how Lucius Malfoy must be Voldemort's right-hand man despite his current stint in Azkaban from the ministry debacle.

"You have no idea," Malfoy whispered into her belly, wrapping his arms around her hips, burying his face.

"Try me,"

"I can't say," he flexed his back, remembering the feel of the hot lashes as they ripped open his skin.

"Why not?"

"Because I will not put you in such danger,"

"I am already in danger. If you need help," Hermione said slowly, mind whirling with a thousand difficulties that nearly stilled her tongue. "If you need help, I will do my best to help you,"

Despite their years of animosity, Hermione felt compelled to reach out, to protect him. She could feel herself slipping further down the rabbit hole and into his enticing embrace. Her mind knew that he would deeply regret this exchange and his hate of her would grow. But she was powerless to stop her heart from freefalling into the enchanting picture he painted for her. He, as her devoted lover. Her, as his.

"I would not do that to you. You have the Order. Surely you and your family will be safe with them," and in a nearly unintelligible whisper he continued, "And if they can't protect you, I will!"

"It doesn't always work like that," Hermione said sadly, knowing that those in the Order were only as safe as their wards and friends allowed. And her parents were afforded little to no protections. Only the Headmaster's word that he had it under control.

"Merlin don't I know it!" He choked out, his fingers digging into her sides. "Nothing is as simple as it ought to be. I wanted to be powerful but now, I just mourn the loss of what my childhood might have been. If I could, I would take it all back…"

Hermione stroked the back of his head without having conscious thought of ever meaning to. "You are not the only one to dream about what if's,"

He exhaled heavily, and she could feel the heat of his breath through the heavy wool of her school robes on her tummy.

Malfoy released his bruising grip and pushed her back, far enough away so that he could stand. Hermione barely held back her sigh of disappointment.

Malfoy startled her by sliding his hand over her face; his thumb resting just before her ear, his fingers buried in her curls. Then he moved closer, his lips hovered over hers. His eyes were burning as he studied her face, her quivering lips, her shortened breath.

"I've dreamed about this," he murmured, clearly intent on capturing her lips.

_What?_  Fear coiled in her stomach and she took a step back, then two, and three. His hand dropped to his side, confusion and hurt suffusing his face.

"Malfoy, you will regret this," she turned away from him, presenting her shoulder.

"Never," Malfoy reached out and caressed her back with the tips of his fingers.

"What did you mean? That you dreamed of this? You could not have possibly dreamed of kissing me,"

"I am very good at hiding my feelings when I feel forced to." He admitted. Hermione groaned. He was going to kill her tomorrow.

"Stop," Hermione begged, unwilling to hear any more for both their sakes.

Besides, she was all turned around. She didn't know what to think anymore or what to believe. There is no way that what he was saying was true. There was no way that Draco Malfoy has been dreaming of kissing her. It was just impossible!

"I can no more stop loving you than can the Earth stop spinning."

"You don't know what you are saying," Hermione protested in a breathy hopeful whisper.

Malfoy spun her around and the look in his eye was fierce and overwhelming. "Do you think I am so weak that I don't know what I am feeling?"

"No! But you are under the spell of a potion. A very powerful dangerous potion!"

"My love for you is real and one of the only bright and happy emotions I am still capable of!" He pulled her closer and buried his face in her shoulder, feather-light kisses dotting the skin.

"I can't…" She pushed against his chest, ignoring the muscles beneath her fingers.

"Hermione?" He said unsurely as she wrenched herself out of his grasp. Fear grew in his gaze as he watched her back away from him. He drew in a ragged breath, "Don't,"

"I'm sorry!" Hermione said, ready to run. The force of a sharp pivot plowed her face first into a hard, unforgiving chest.

"Miss Granger?" A familiar disapproving voice said as he steadied her on instinct. Hermione opened her eyes in mortification, tracing the endless rows of buttons up to Severus Snape's hawkish gaze. His suspicious eyes flicked to Malfoy over her shoulder. "Mr. Malfoy?"

Snape was staring at Malfoy significantly, in askance, no doubt wondering why the two would ever be caught together. However, it was made extremely clear that the two men were not on the best of terms. A potion riddled Malfoy glowered in fury at Snape's steadying hand that remained on Hermione's bicep. Hermione wrinkled her brow in confusion. Wasn't Malfoy Snape's favorite snake?

"Damnit!" Hermione muttered under her breath. She may have brought Malfoy to the infirmary to be treated but she had no intention of anyone actually knowing her involvement, certain that both her and Malfoy would want things that way after he took the antidote.

"What is going on here?" Snape asked, voice full of suspicion and derision.

"Nothing," Malfoy said quickly with as much fury and possessiveness that Hermione had ever seen. The tips of her ears began to burn.

Hermione avoided her professor's gaze, shifting from one foot to another. Guiltily. Never had she willfully not answered a professor when they asked her directly. She may have lied. She may even have outright been belligerent. She even may have led one into the centaur's den. But she had never, not answered. Especially this teacher. The one she was sure was able to see inside her mind.

"Nothing?" Snape replied, unbelieving.

Malfoy grabbed Hermione by the arm, tore her from Snape's loose grip, pulled her behind him, and used his own body to shield her from his Godfather. Hermione flushed deeper and saw Snape's eyebrow arch into his hairline, even as she frantically tried to avoid his piercing gaze.

"We were waiting for Madam Pomfrey," He said, taking a step to the right, covering Hermione completely from Snape's perusal.

"Whatever for?"

"He's been hurt," Hermione said in a strained voice. Delicacy was of the utmost importance. The Amortentia would dictate much of Malfoy's response. If she said the wrong thing, he would go into a frenzy. It was a well-known side effect of the love potion. He would fight the knowledge that he was under its effects. Look how he reacted when she said he was under a spell not two minutes prior.

And Hermione knew that any attempt to dose him with an antidote would be met with brutal vehemence and denial.

"I'm fine," he said, still protective.

Hermione dug deep into her pocket and pulled out the tiny vial that started this whole fiasco. Holding it up to the light so that Snape could see, she peeled away the fake label.

There it was in all its glory.

Experimental Amortentia.

Snape's eyes widened, and his lips thinned until it didn't even look like he had lips anymore. His eyes glittered with his fury, Hermione his main focus.

"How did  _that_  happen?" Snape accused, barely holding back his magic. She could tell from the way he caressed his wand that he was definitely considering using the thing on her.

"How did what happen?" Malfoy said, tightening his grip on Hermione's arm, having not seen the vial. Hermione patted Malfoy's iron grip before moving from out behind him, his hand still wrapped around her arm.

"There was a potion-" Hermione began but Malfoy cut her off.

"Don't tell him anything," his face turned hard, defensive.

" _That_  potion?" Snape demanded.

"Yes," She whispered despite Malfoy's protests.

"You dosed him with Amortentia?" Snape growled furiously.

"Don't speak to Hermione that way," Malfoy threatened.

"It was an accident. And besides," Hermione replied to Snape defensively. "it was his potion. Not mine!"

"What would Mr. Malfoy be doing with Amortentia?" he sneered.

"I don't think he knew what it was!"

"You little fool! Didn't it occur to you to find me first instead of traipsing to the Hospital Wing?"

"Well, since he was hurt, and under the influence of an unknown potion, my first thought was the Infirmary. How silly of me!" Hermione seethed. After her initial outburst, she froze, raising her horrified gaze to her professor.

"Enough!" Malfoy yelled and lifted his wand at Snape. "Stay away from us! From  _her_!"

Snape held his hands up in the universal sign of surrender. However, the moment Malfoy relaxed, Snape wandlessly stunned him.

"I will take care of him," Snape said sharply. Hermione nodded, her white lips pressed together. "Get back to your high tower, Miss Granger."

"Then you are going to need this," her voice shook, still incensed at his accusations and horrified at her own mouthy rebuttal, handing over the empty vial of Amortentia and top label. "I caught him in the corridor after curfew. I tried to confiscate this potion and we had a small scuffle in which I accidentally knocked him over, breaking the potion bottle in the process. Malfoy also had a cut on the back of his head. The potion seemed to be absorbed by his wound. And I assume that is how it entered his body."

"Ten points from Gryffindor for fighting unnecessarily with another student," If he had looked angry before… he looked positively insensate now.

"But!"

Professor Snape glared, daring her to complete her statement. Hermione snapped her teeth together in righteous indignation but stayed silent. Losing ten points was worth letting her tongue loose on the man. Thank Merlin he didn't take more, as he had done in the past for less.

"Go,"

"Yes sir," she said, turning around the moment she was dismissed. She had no doubt that Malfoy would be dosed with the proper reversal potions as soon as possible. There was no way his side would abide his obsession with a Muggleborn.

It was just the way things were.

She fumed the entire way back to Gryffindor tower. It wasn't like it was all her fault! Malfoy was the one with a banned substance, not her! With a sneer, she silently bet that Malfoy wouldn't get into a lick of trouble. Not with Professor Snape there to protect him.

Hermione stopped and breathed slowly. Why did she care so much? It wasn't like this was the first case of unfair treatment. Malfoy's face floated to the front of her mind. His normal sneering hatred was completely absent. It was his face transformed with the most tender smile. His eyes dripped syrupy sweet. Like he cared. Like he loved her. She couldn't get it out of her head. No one looked at her the way Malfoy had. No one. Ever.

And she yearned for it.

Not for Malfoy per se, but that look. As if she were the sun and he was a planet, revolving around her, needing her. Blood rushed through her body and her heart ached. It wasn't real. That look, that feeling. He was under the effects of the most powerful love potion in the world. And she was starting to think that she wasn't wholly unaffected either.

It was as if lights just turned on in her brain. Her mind cleared. She hadn't noticed any characteristic smells when the potion broke. Not one whiff of parchment, freshly mown grass, or toothpaste… Why not? Why didn't she smell anything? Was she under the potion too? Is that why she allowed him to hold her hand? Is that why she couldn't get his smile out of her mind? Why every time she remembered his hot breath on her stomach her core clenched with desire?

Hermione turned on the balls of her feet, ready to run back the way she came, but paused. If she really was suffering side effects, they were so minimal that they would fade with time. Probably by morning. Should she risk Professor Snape's wrath by returning to the Infirmary?

She shook her head and clenched her teeth. She would not lose any more points from her house. Hermione turned back around and entered the common room and slowly trudged to bed. It had been such a strange day.

**HGHG**

Draco came to with a groan, his head felt as if an ax had been taken to it in the night.

"Good Morning," Snape said. His lips were pinched with annoyance.

"Where am I?"

"The Hospital Wing,"

"Why?"

"Do you remember anything from last night?"

Draco shook his head, wincing at the stabbing pain.

"You imbued Amortentia,"

Draco's eyes flew wide, staring unbelievingly at his Godfather. "How did that happen?"

"My words exactly! Miss Granger says you were in possession of the potion and when she tried to confiscate it, you both fought, a scuffle ending with you being under the effects of the love potion,"

"Impossible!"

Snape pulled out the vial that Hermione gave him with the extra label and handed them over to the unbelieving boy. Draco looked at the evidence and it slowly came back to him as if out of a fog. He remembered the opal-colored potion and stared in horror at the extra label in his other hand.

"Was I…"

"In love? Oh yes, and Miss Granger was quite good to you, too. I don't think she tried to take advantage of you at all. In fact, I think she was a bit dazed by you if what I saw in her mind was any indication."

Draco groaned and held his head as the memories rushed back in. Why wasn't he more outraged? Why did the soft skin of her cheek come back to him? Why did his body respond when he remembered the weight of her, the feel of him between her legs? The smell of her as she held him close to her breast? Desire rushed through him as he recalled the way her body moved when she reached for the empty vial above their heads. He doubted she understood what she did to him when she rolled her hips as she leaned over. It was the sweetest torture. And he wanted more.

He shook his head. What was he thinking?! He couldn't do this! He could never have her! The danger they would both be in! He blinked in surprise. He shouldn't be worried that they would be in danger! Shouldn't he be disgusted that it was her, a Muggleborn, who saw him at his most vulnerable?

"I thank you for giving me the antidote," Draco said, watching his Godfather out of the corner of his eye to see if he had guessed correctly. Snape merely nodded in affirmation and something twisted in Draco's gut. If he was already given the antidote, then why was she still in his mind, front and center?

Merlin! He couldn't let anyone know. The danger she would be in! As hunted as she already was, this would make her already questionable lifespan halve. Not to mention the horrendous torture waiting for him if he was ever found out.

"What is your plan, Draco? I could help you," Snape began in on the interrogation. Same song, different day.

"I'm not doing this," Draco said throwing the blanket off of himself and grabbing his cloak before striding to the door. Snape stood, scowling, watching as the door swung shut with a bang.


	2. A Reason for Blackmail

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A million thank you's to my Alpha reader, CJRed, who continues to give me wonderful feedback. Including helping me modify the summary to more accurately reflect the entire story.
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr as Jessiyl where I've been posting chapter teasers.

**Chapter Two- A Reason for Blackmail**

In the night, the last vestiges of the love potion dissipated, leaving Hermione sullen and unsatisfied. Where butterflies once danced in her belly, now laid a yawning chasm- a hollow empty pit that threatened to leave her bereft. She spent the night tossing and turning. Draco Malfoy's smile haunted her with its charm and lazy curve. It confused her, making her fixate on how she would feel to be the focus of his undivided attention.

Hermione tried to push those unreasonable thoughts aside while stretching her arms high above her head. As the early morning light filtered through her bed curtains, she winced, and a headache began forming behind her eyes. A throwback to her fitful night. Already, she was dreading dragging herself out of bed to start her day, knowing that once she left the safety of her bed, she would have to enter the Great Hall for breakfast. She wasn't sure she was ready to face that. To face him.

The boys must have been waiting for her at the bottom of the staircase because every once in a while, they would call up to her. Groaning, she threw the blankets off of her body and slowly oozed out of bed as if she was neither a solid nor liquid. Once she was upright, she grunted something towards the stairs that resembled that she was coming and stumbled her way in the bathroom. She shuffled her feet, as if picking them up between each step was too much of an effort, and hung her towel on the hook just inside the shower stall. Two minutes into her steaming hot shower, she was finally feeling a bit more human.

Even then she just didn't have it in her to stand straight that morning. Maybe after tea but not yet.

Hermione sighed, letting the hot water cascade over her hair and down her back. Wet, her hair was long and brushed her waist. Leaning away from the spray she massaged her shampoo into her scalp. Rarely, did she pile her heavy hair on top of her head and wash the entirety. The reality of her life was that hair products were hit or miss. Sometimes her hair would smooth. Sometimes it would frizz worse. Her mother blamed the frizz on the humidity and assured her that her hair would settle a bit in a few years. Puberty was one hell of a bitch.

"Want me to tell them you will be down on your own?" Lavender called out as she stood at the semi-fogged mirror, putting the finishing touches on her makeup charms.

Sometimes, Lavender drove her up a wall... and sometimes she was super considerate. It was true they would never be bosom buddies, but that didn't mean they constantly sent digs at each other either.

"Thanks, Lavender," Hermione said, peeking out at her dorm mate from behind the shower curtain.

Lavender's face began to glow with anticipation. Her eyes brightened. With a newfound urgency, she began to pack up. Throwing her beauty products in their bag.

If Hermione didn't know better, she would have thought that the girl had a crush on one of her best mates. She shook her head an closed the curtain tightly. None of the steam could be allowed to escape. Hermione lifted her chin and closed her eyes, enjoying the way the water massaged her face.

Lavender bounced out of the bathroom and presumably sent the boys down to breakfast. Either that or they had decided to stop yelling up to the girl's dorms. The second of which she doubted.

After washing and making sure her fingers were thoroughly pruned, she decided that she couldn't hide out in the bathroom forever. Flashes of a Hermione-looking Moaning Myrtle who lived in the U-bend of the loo ran through her mind. She grimaced. It would be better to just face Malfoy.

Once she decided that she was strong enough to go to breakfast, she got ready in a hurry. She realized that she was starving and there was always the possibility that Malfoy wouldn't even be there. At that thought, she perked up, elevating her mood instantly. Undoubtedly, he would want to avoid her too. At least she hoped so.

Despite being a Saturday, the Common and corridors were empty. Dread began coiling heavily in her chest. Hermione was pretty certain at that point that she wasn't lucky enough to walk into a nearly empty breakfast. It seemed as if the whole school had a lie in that morning, and everyone opted for the late breakfast. Fantastic, she thought sarcastically.

At the doors to the Great Hall, Hermione paused. Breathing deeply through her nose, she forced herself to screw her courage to the sticking place. She was a Gryffindor for goodness sake! With a final prayer to Merlin, she pushed the massive door open and walked in.

The din was deafening. From the corner of her eye, she saw that Malfoy was talking to Nott and reaching for his cup of tea, without even a twitch to indicate that he noticed her presence. No one was looking at her or paying any attention to her at all. There were no attacks from the Slytherin table. No mighty pranks dumped over her. She nearly skipped to Gryffindor table. Once there, she immediately reached for the strongest black tea Hogwarts offered, unintentionally elbowing Harry in her haste.

"Good of you to join us," Harry teased, munching on a pile of bacon and exaggeratingly rubbing his ribs with his free hand.

Hermione flashed him a smile and took a satisfying pull from her teacup, playfully bumping her shoulder into his.

"What do you think is up Malfoy's arse this morning?" Ron asked with a grimace. He had sat on the opposite side of Harry and could see the Slytherin table from his vantage point. Hermione purposefully chose the seat next to Harry, hoping to avoid meeting Malfoy's gaze.

"Why?" Harry asked darkly, turning in his seat to glare across the room.

Hermione hesitantly turned as well. Malfoy looked as if he was warring within himself as he ripped his toast into shreds. Next to him, Nott was still talking but his attention was fastened on her, not his friend. The moment she turned at Ron's behest, she was held captivated in his molten gaze. Their eyes connected, despite the distance, and she couldn't pull herself away.

"He's been staring at us ever since Hermione sat down," Ron said with a sneer. "What did you do to him, 'Mione? Punch him again?" He chuckled at the thought and sent a nod of appreciation. As if to say, well done. An homage to their third year, when Hermione punched Malfoy.

Hermione turned back around through sheer force of will and smiled awkwardly at Ron's praise. Feeling that Malfoy's gaze was still on her, she lost her appetite. She was way too self-conscious to eat. Hermione began ripping up her own toast making a pile just as grand as Malfoy's.

"Well if you didn't do anything to him, keep your guard up. It looks like he is up to something. And if he has targeted you, we should be extra careful. We all know what Death Eaters think of Muggle-borns," Harry said darkly.

Hermione could barely stop herself from rolling her eyes. Harry refused to be dissuaded from his belief that Draco Malfoy was a marked Death Eater. Personally, Hermione had her doubts, especially when she remembered the fear-filled allusions he had made about his situation

at home.

Quidditch banter stole Ron and Harry's attention as talk about a new maneuver was openly discussed. It was Ron's way of pulling Harry out of his intense focus on Malfoy.

Hermione tried to push all thoughts of last night out of her mind. Instead, she focused on the pile of essays that she intended to work on that afternoon. Transfiguration was the first on her list. She was having trouble finding credible sources.

"Are you coming to the pitch to watch, Hermione?" Harry asked, turning to her on the bench. "or are you headed to the Library?"

Hermione thought quickly. It wasn't very likely that she would run into Malfoy during a Gryffindor practice. However, if he wanted to find her alone, the library would be a good bet. She refused to give him that opportunity. Hermione was absolutely positive that he would be seeking vengeance. She wanted to avoid that at all costs.

_Well,_  she thought stubbornly,  _at least I won't go down without a fight._

"Sure! I'll come and watch. I think I need some fresh air," she said with more enthusiasm than usual. Ginny looked at her from across the table with a single brow arched high in her hairline. Hermione flushed and looked away.

Ron was looking at her as if she had just announced that she had decided to walk backward for the rest of her life. "That isn't what you said yesterday,"

"That," Hermione stuck her nose up in the air and ignored Ginny's sniggering. "was yesterday."

Harry smirked and pushed his glasses further up his nose, taking one last bite of bacon. Ron was still staring with his mouth agape, showing all the world his half-masticated breakfast. Hermione nibbled the last bite of toast and ignored the decimated pile of breadcrumbs on her plate. She wasn't that hungry anyway.

Ginny caught her eye and winked before leaving, obviously heading to the pitch to get in a few laps before the rest of the team arrived. Hermione smiled and stood too. Conjuring a mug to carry her tea, she poured the rest of her morning cuppa in and cast a powerful warming charm. The boys had already packed up and were waiting for Hermione to gather her things. But when she turned, it was  _Malfoy's_  gaze that drew her. Dark lashes framed his silver eyes and he looked up at her from beneath them. Her heart couldn't help but stutter. She swallowed hard, tearing her gaze away, and heat crawled up the flesh of her throat.

"Lead the way," Hermione said to Harry before making herself busy with her bag. The subject of Quidditch was resumed with vigor as they passed the Slytherin table. Hermione could feel the hair on the back of her neck stand on end as they walked out.

The jaunt down to the pitch was comfortable. She was surrounded by her friends, and even though she was not strictly part of the conversation, she enjoyed listening to her friends razz each other. They were loud and excited. Ron hooked an arm around her shoulders, including her.

At the edge of the pitch, their group broke apart. Hermione climbed the stands while the boys took to the air. Ginny was already flying, long red hair whipping around her face, exaltation on her face. Some students sat here and there in the stands. Girls who liked Harry. Boys who adored Ginny. First years who wanted, more than anything, to be a part of the Gryffindor House team. A rival team's captain wore a bad disguise and slouched low in his seat. A small peek of a blue scarf showed at his throat. Hermione rolled her eyes.

When she was about halfway up the winding stairs, she heard running steps behind her. Assuming that one of the boys forgot to tell her something, Hermione stopped and waited. She was not prepared, however, to come face to face with Draco Malfoy, who froze the moment he saw her.

Hermione pulled out her wand and they both watched as it quivered in her grip.

He pulled his lips up in a half smirk, took the two steps left between them, and let her wand dig into his stomach. His long fingers wrapped around her wrist and refused to let her drop her wand arm back to her side. Hermione's breath caught, electric radiated from his touch. A fire began to burn in her veins.

"What do you want?" Hermione whispered, eyes darkened with something she refused to define. This was Malfoy that she was dealing with, not a different boy who was crushing on her. She was constantly reminding herself of that fact.

"I need to get you out of my head," Malfoy muttered sardonically as if his answer was more for him than it was for her.

Hermione blinked, seemingly uncaring. But, it couldn't have been further from the truth. Inside, she was quivering. Hovering somewhere between excitement and wariness. "Didn't Professor Snape give you the antidote?"

"Yes." There was no explanation, no matter how heavy the pause between them laid.

Hermione shook her head. Partly to clear her head of his amazing scent that tantalized her and partly in denial that she was affected at all. She had to get out of the enclosed space. "Look, I didn't do anything to you. I could have but I didn't. We can go back to the way things were. Just ignore me or throw insults. We can both forget that last night ever happened."

The offer hung in the air and he studied her for a beat before saying, "things can't go back to the way they were,"

"Why not?"

"Because it would be impossible,"

"I won't tell anyone. I promise," She said uneasily. Shifting from one foot to the other, Hermione tried to breathe through her mouth so that she could think without his heady cologne influencing her thoughts and feelings. Memories of last night dogged her- his face buried in her stomach, arms that reached for her, the way he smiled. Oh, Merlin, the way he smiled at her! She struggled to deny that she ached to hold him again.

He looked at her doubtingly. "I bet you told Potter everything the moment you woke up, having a great laugh at my expense,"

"I wouldn't…" she protested.

"Why not? Because we are such great friends?" He laughed humorlessly.

"No, because you couldn't help it," and neither could I, she thought.

"I can't take that chance," He raised his wand and pointed the tip between her eyes.

"What would convince you?" She asked, meeting and holding his glare in a challenge. What did he plan on doing? Was he going to hurt her?

"To make you as guilty as me," he murmured. His silver eyes pinned her in place, making her immobile.

Her memories of potion-addled Malfoy continued to dance in her mind. The way his hands felt as they clutched her hips, mesmerized her. The way he buried his face in the cradle of her neck had her craving the rough rasp of his five o'clock shadow. His sincerity when he told her that he had wanted her for the longest time was music to her ears. Desire made her stomach clench. She looked away, unable to bear the disappointing blank mask he wore for her now.

"You want to make me just as guilty as you?" she repeated and furrowed her brow as she spoke to the canvas covered wall. "To dose me with Amortentia?"

"Nothing that extreme, Granger. Just a kiss. A single kiss. Making you just as culpable, just as invested into being quiet about it as I am."

"You want to be able to blackmail me if I let the Kneezle out of the bag," she guessed.

He stared at her, waiting for her answer.

"What makes you think I would allow you to touch me?" She whispered, mind whirling, body thrumming with excitement… too much excitement. But she would rather die than tell him that.

He snorted and brought one of his hands up to trace his bottom lip as he looked away from her and focused on the rough wood and canvas of the stairway. Dropping his wand to his side, he turned back to her and said, "because, Granger, you held me close and ran your fingers through my hair, let me hold your hand, and because you nearly kissed me back last night."

Hermione shook her head vehemently. "That is because you were under the influence of Amortentia!"

"You are not that good of an actress, Granger," He said, dragging his mesmerizing eyes back to hers. She could barely breathe for his closeness. His smell drowned her, and she couldn't get a single fresh breath to clear her head. Heat rolled off his body as he leaned closer and closer. She was quickly losing the battle she was waging within herself. The part of herself that was still resisting. But he was Draco Malfoy- the very best reason to run away. Didn't he already have enough blackmail when she didn't push him away while they were in the infirmary? Why did he need this too?

This became a weaker argument the closer his lips came to hers. She inhaled swiftly- dizzyingly- and her lips tingled as she waited for him to brave the last two inches between them. She nodded, giving permission that he didn't quite ask for.

He plucked her mug of tea out of her hand and hovered inches away. Exhaling, he bathed her face in his warm fruity breath. Finally, his lips brushed lightly against hers. Not yet kissing and yet, too close to deny the intent. Hermione closed her eyes and slightly tilted her chin, heart pounding.

"Oi! Hermione! Did you slip and fall down there?" Ron yelled from the top of the stands and down into the stairwell. Hermione rapidly sucked in air and jumped away guiltily, eyes flying open in terror at the thought of being caught. Suddenly, she was grateful that Malfoy had stopped her midway up the stands. If the steps hadn't wound around the inside of the structure or if they had been any closer to the top, Ron would have been able to see exactly what kept Hermione from sitting in the stands.

"Fucking Weasley," Draco Malfoy muttered darkly, sending a vicious look skyward. His voice was husky and his pupils blown wide. He was so bloody alluring and Hermione ached to run her fingers over the ticking muscle in his jaw.

"Don't," she whispered, taking several steps up and away from Malfoy. She needed to remove the temptation by putting space between them. It was clear that he was angry and frustrated; he ran his hand through his platinum hair. Even that action caught her attention, sending confusing signals of desire through her body.

Though her eyes were still locked with Malfoy's, she yelled up the stairwell. "My bag ripped. I'm just picking everything up. I'll be there in a minute."

"Okay," Ron yelled back. "as long as you are okay!"

Hermione could hear Ron take off on his broom, flying away. Malfoy reached out for her, but she was already stumbling up more stairs.

"Don't," she gasped.

Malfoy rolled his bottom lip between his teeth and clenched his beckoning hand into a fist. Dropping his arm to his side, he nodded with a bitter sort of humor.

"I hope your friends will understand," He said with a nasty smile. He turned around abruptly and began the long trek back down the stairs.

"I'm not saying no," She whisper-yelled, causing Malfoy to freeze in place and turn his head just enough for their eyes to meet. "just not here. Meet me in the Library after dinner."

"Where everyone would see us?" he asked drily.

Hermione put her hands on her hips and tapped her toe on the wooden stair. "Then what would you suggest?"

"Charms corridor, eight pm. Third classroom to the left. Don't make me wait," with one last inscrutable look, he turned away and continued to retreat.

Hermione took several deep breaths after he was out of sight. Another minute and she would have given in, sinking so far into Malfoy that she would have let him take whatever he wanted from her. She couldn't afford that. He was the kind of boy who would not just break her heart, he was the kind that would ruin her for anyone else first. And the only thing he wanted was a bit of blackmail.

Thank Merlin, for Ron and his timely interruption!

She turned her back on the space that Malfoy had recently occupied and resumed her ascension. Settling in, she reached in her bag and pulled out the school work that she knew that she would not be able to concentrate on.

**HGHG**

Draco retreated to lick his wounds. What did he think was going to happen if he cornered her? He scrubbed at his face in embarrassment. As if he didn't have enough to worry about, he had to go and press her. For a damn kiss.

He might as well have announced that he was ready to die. Either by his master or hers didn't matter.

What had possessed him to chase after her? Groaning, he already knew the answer to that question. The catalyst might as well have been branded into his skin for all the emotional upheaval it caused. When she had sat down next to Potter at breakfast it was obvious that she was avoiding looking toward the Slytherin table and him. At first, it had reassured him. She was smart enough to stay out of his way and to keep what happened a secret. Then, Potter put his hand on her shoulder, and she leaned into him. As if lovers. Images of the Daily Prophet from their fourth year flashed in front of his eyes.

Draco burned with jealousy.

When the Gryffindors passed his table en mass, he heard them chattering excitedly about their morning plans. Quidditch practice for the Gryffindor team and Granger was going to watch from the stands. Alone.

Temptingly alone.

Next thing he knew, he was approaching the pitch, wrapped in a strong notice-me-not. Only letting the spell drop once he entered the relative safety of the covered stands. He ran up the wooden steps and took them two at a time until he was right there in front of her. Her confusion was palpable but her breathing hitched and her eyes followed him as if he held the last cup of water on earth.

His pride roared, making him cocky. Cocky to the point that he let her wand rest press into his stomach. Draco was so sure that she wouldn't hurt him, that he held her wand against his body. And she didn't. He had been right.

Her touch was so light, so sweet, that it nearly gave him a toothache. And before he knew it, he was leaning in, ready to devour her and seal both of their fates with a kiss. He claimed to need the blackmail, but that too was a lie. He just wanted a taste of her lips, to feel her soft fingertips on his skin. If he could have just one kiss, he could banish all thoughts of her. Forever. Lavender rose from her skin and he would have gladly drowned in her scent to capture her plump lips. So close… he could almost taste her. He had her in his arms.

Then Weasley!

Draco closed his eyes and flexed the muscles in his back, relishing the slight sting of the healing skin, all the while trying to clear his head. Everything would go back to normal if he could get a taste. All he needed was one kiss and he would lose interest, allowing him to focus his attention on the most important mission of his life.

Unconsciously, he brought the tea that he still held to his lips and took a pull, lifting his brows at the unexpectedly sweet drink. Then, he smiled when he remembered that it was Granger's and wondered if she would taste like the honey her tea was sweetened with. Honey was something that he loved, reminding him of summers from his childhood.

He smirked, taking another sip before entering the dungeons to summon Crabbe and Goyle. They would stand watch so that he could be sure of privacy as he struggled with magic way too advanced for a sixth-year boy.

In less than an hour later, Goyle was standing guard, polyjuiced as a firstie, and Draco was once again staring down the broken Vanishing Cabinet, empty mug on the floor near his feet.

Time moved at a glacial pace. Seven o'clock found Draco on his knees, scared with the persisting lack of progress, realizing that he had once again missed dinner. If things continued in this unsatisfactory way, the Dark Lord would kill him… but only after making him watch the murder of his parents first.

He couldn't think about that. It would destroy his ability to do the job at hand and death really would become his reality.

Idly, he wondered what Granger would think about the fact that he missed dinner before shaking his head as if to physically dispel the thought. He needed to care about the Dark Lord and the task he was assigned, not a witch who stood on the opposite side of the divide.

Draco's gaze fell on the woodgrain on the cabinet and his mind wandered to the empty classroom on the third floor. If he was going to die soon, at least he would have this one kiss. This one opportunity to have her in his arms. Willingly.

Not for the first time, he wondered why he couldn't put her back into the box in his mind that he had labeled untouchable a long time ago. Ever since he was dosed with Amortentia, it was as if the top had exploded off and nothing would stay where it was supposed to. Almost, as if the suggestion of having her was too much to contain.

Absently, he traced the woodgrain with his finger. One kiss would cure him. He nodded as if convincing himself as excitement gathered in his chest. Just one kiss was all he was asking for.

As he stood, he smoothed his robes. The broken vanishing cabinet felt like a thousand-pound chain hanging around his neck and he tried to shrug off the feeling of impending doom. The anticipation of finding out if Granger did, in fact, taste sweet, made a smile play at the edges of his lips as he left the room.

Goyle was nowhere to be seen and Draco could only surmise that the goon had abandoned his post in favor of dinner. Again. The corridors were eerily quiet, more so than usual. Although it was a weekend, it wasn't yet curfew, and it set him on edge. However, no one bothered him as he approached the room he had set for their assignation. Not that he saw anyone.

Muffled sounds of movement bled into the stone hall and Draco peeked around the door that stood slightly ajar. Granger was already there, pacing the length of the room. Incoherent ramblings tumbled from her mouth and her hands gesticulated wildly, as if in mid-explanation. All of a sudden, she stopped and smacked her forehead hard enough to leave a small red mark. He canted his head, watching her, with a wickedly amused gleam. Suddenly he wondered if she was trying to talk herself out of being there or if she was trying to envision herself talking him out of kissing her. He snorted. Too late on both accounts.

"Glad you made it," Draco said, closing the door firmly but quietly.

She startled and huffed, "as if I had a choice,"

He chuckled and ran his hand through his hair. She looked as if she had never seen anyone laugh before- as if she never saw it from him. A bludger to the head would have surprised her less. He used to be happy. Once upon a time. Unless she never noticed. Why would she? She consistently saw the worst side of him. Whose fault was that? He thought wryly.

Draco approached her slowly as if she would bolt if he made any sudden movements, pausing only when he was inches away.

Reaching for her, he watched his own fingers as they caressed her face. She sucked in a surprised breath, eyes shining in the dim light. Using his thumb to graze her lips, he tried to draw out another gasp. He was enraptured. Her hot breath misted the pad of his thumb and his body went taut the moment her tongue parted her lips and tasted him.

Draco's breath came out with a whoosh. Blood pounded in his ears and to his groin. This time, he didn't wait for her to adjust to his nearness. This time, he buried his hand in her hair and took her lips. Soothing lips against lips, sucking the plumper bottom in between his. Nibbling at the sensitive flesh.

A shiver went through her body as he tasted her lips in the same way she tasted his thumb. Her reaction was a bolt of desire straight through him. With his tongue, he traced the outline, catching a small amount of honey trapped at the corner. Sweet, just as he imagined.

Drowning, Draco struggled to bring himself back to reality but the feel of her body softening into him made that nearly impossible. He felt her arms snake around his neck as she rose on her toes to settle her body into his taller frame. Rounded breasts to his chest, her hips to his groin.

All thoughts of stopping flew out the window the moment he raised his free hand to slide around her curved waist and he could only hold her closer. Her mouth opened and he explored the soft skin of her mouth with his tongue, nearly losing control when her tongue stroked his- battled with his. Especially as her tongue invaded his mouth, tasting him with the same fervor.

If he thought the one kiss would cure him of his fixation, he was now disabused. One kiss would never be enough.

Granger broke the kiss and laid her forehead against his lips, panting. He continued to kiss where she let him, roaming his hands over her back- the dip of her waist, the curve of her lower back. He would do this forever if she let him.

Her breasts were soft against his lean chest and he pulled her closer, molding her to his hard body. He was aching, hard, and relished the way her body cradled him.

"Is that good enough for your blackmail?" she whispered.

Stabbing him would have been less effective, as he stood there emotionally bleeding, and struggling not to show it. Blackmail. Right. That was why they were both there, to put them on an even playing field.

The fact she agreed to it all boggled his mind. The fact that she was so passionate seared into his brain. The fact she would never be his destroyed him.

He would never be able to watch her with someone else either.

A small part of himself, hidden deep in his mind, whispered that he wouldn't have to watch because he would be dead anyway. And maybe, a darker thought rose, so would she.

He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly, suffocating in its intensity, and closed his eyes. If this was his moment, his only chance, he would take it. Immortalize it. Keep it locked deep in his heart.

"Malfoy?" she said muffled into his shoulder. "Malfoy, I can't breathe,"

Struggling with all the feelings he refused to say, he kept his mouth shut but loosened his hold. Infinitesimally.

**HGHG**

Hermione wrapped her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and held him tightly. She didn't think he even knew that he was trembling. For a moment, Hermione let herself pretend that this was okay, that holding him was a natural progression in their lives.

That kiss rocked her world. She couldn't even lie to herself.

In some ways, she wished she never agreed to the kiss. Then she wouldn't know exactly what she would be missing when he went back to his family, his ideas, and his pureblooded future bride.

But if he was kissing her, then he must not believe in the ideologies he had been spewing ever since their first year. Wasn't that reason enough of its own to celebrate?

He would never have considered touching her if that wasn't the case.

Circling back to their kiss, she couldn't help but love how sweet he could be when he tried. Too bad there was so much bad blood that stood between them.

"Granger," he murmured into her neck, dropping kisses.

"Yeah?" she sighed, arching her neck against his lips.

He pulled away to study her face and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. He looked as if he was going to say something but shook his head instead after a moment's hesitation. "Never mind,"

She held her breath for a moment, wondering what he would do, wondering if he would lean back in and capture her lips. The flutter in her stomach told her that she wanted him to do just that. She really, really wanted that.

He didn't. Once again, his mask was firmly in control of his face. And like that, he was gone, even if he was still in the room. Just as he emotionally distanced himself, he also put physical space between them, backing away toward the door.

"Granger?"

She raised her brow, struggling to save her soul from the small amount of hope that had seeped in when she wasn't looking.

"I will be sure to keep your secret safe, as long as you keep mine," he smirked and left the room, leaving Hermione dazed and utterly furious that the kiss was more in her eyes than it was in his. It made her hate him, just a little bit.

**HGHG**

Snape sat at his desk; quill poised to write. It frustrated him that there was none of the experimental potion left to test. It concerned him that his godson was dosed with something that he wasn't familiar with. What would the ramifications be of such a potion? What would the side effects be?

He was well versed in the effects of Amortentia, having been forced to teach it to every sixth-year class he ever had. Even though he tried to strike it from the curriculum every single year. Putting Amortentia in the hands of a questionable teenage girl's morals was not just a mistake, it was willfully tempting fate.

This, however, was not the accident he had been expecting to encounter. Hermione Granger, though a regurgitating know-it-all, was the top of her class. Even he had to admit that she wouldn't be so careless or stupid to keep Amortentia. This particular potion was something that Draco picked up somewhere and he cringed as his thoughts ran down the list of Draco's possible sources. Why would Draco possess Amortentia? Why would someone give him an Amortentia by-product and not tell him what it was?

Was this just a sick initiation in the ranks of Death Eaters that he was unaware of?

Snape pulled himself back to the task at hand, putting quill to parchment. If anyone knew of the different strains of Amortentia, it would be Damocles Belby. Once upon a time, Snape heard a rumor that the potioneer had dabbled in experiments using the stuff to enhance the Wolfsbane Potion. Once he was finished, he tightly rolled the parchment, tied it off, and set it to the side.

The worst part of the whole fiasco was Dumbledore's reaction to Snape's rendition.

Snape had walked into the Headmaster's office that night, empty potion vial in his fist. Surprisingly, the glass hadn't shattered, despite his overly firm grip.

"Ah, Severus! Just the man I needed to see," Dumbledore said, finishing off his letter with a flourish.

Snape strode to the desk and set the potion vial in the center. Pursed lips showed his heightened annoyance.

"What is this?" Dumbledore asked, lifting the vial, and studying it with a critical eye. "A new potion idea?"

"Hardly," Snape said and rolled his eyes, sinking into the chair opposite the headmaster. "It was a bottle of experimental Amortentia,"

"Was?"

"Indeed,"

"And who was the unlucky owner of the aforementioned Amortentia?"

"Draco Malfoy claimed he found it and it was he that was dosed."

That caught Dumbledore's attention and he leaned forward as if following the progress of his favorite daytime soap opera. "And who was the lucky recipient of Mr. Malfoy's affections?"

Snape looked away, unable to help the sneer that curled his lip. "Hermione Granger,"

"Oh Ho!" Dumbledore said in celebration, his eyes twinkling merrily. "I think things have just got infinitely more interesting,"

"If by interesting, you mean, complicated and dangerous. Then yes, I agree,"

Dumbledore just laughed happily.


	3. Sugar Quills

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to shout out to all you reviewers out there for leaving such wonderful comments. The Harry Potter Fandom is one of the most incredible to write for. So, again, Thank you!
> 
> Huge props to CJRed, my alpha reader for this story, for putting up with all the 'but does it work' questions at all hours of the day. Seriously, she's amazing guys!
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr as jessiyl, where I have been posting teasers for upcoming chapters.
> 
> Updates every Thursday!

**Chapter Three- Sugar Quills**

Hogwarts was covered in the first snow of the year, gleaming white and brilliant against the sunrise. To be sure, it was a touch early in the year for snow being only Mid-October, but in the highlands, it wasn't unheard of. Silence pervaded the early morning as it always did immediately after a snowfall. The only disturbance was the small thrill of hushed anticipation. Snow games that would be had once the occupants in the castle had fully arisen.

Hermione stood at the window uncharacteristically early. Dreams starring Draco Malfoy plagued her throughout the night and well into the morning. It had been days since she could do anything else. She couldn't escape them. Not even as she tried to bury herself in homework. However, the early mornings were the worst. While in a sleeping state close enough to wakefulness her memories meshed with wild fantasies.

That kiss was on replay and her thoughts would turn dirty. Just as dirty as the many romance novels she read during summer vacation. Perpetually, she was plagued by insomnia, which was fueled by his smile, his eyes, his kiss, his body.

It had been over two weeks since he met her in that empty classroom to even the score. Two weeks since she tasted him. Two weeks since she learned how it would feel to be in his arms. It was choking her. Slowly, so slowly. Every day she would see him. In the Great Hall, the classrooms, in the hallways, and he would catch her eye and visually caress her lips before turning away. Pretending as if nothing had ever happened. Just the way it should have been from the very beginning, her mind reasoned, but her heart refused to fall in line.

The truth was that Hermione burned from the inside out. She could feel herself gravitate towards him and lean in his direction when they shared classes. Constantly, she found herself unconsciously choosing a seat in the Great Hall that would give her the best vantage point in order to observe him. He never looked up, as if he knew that she was watching and was forcing himself to not notice. She suspected that was the case, anyway, because the tendons on the side of his neck were pulled taut and his shoulders tensed with agitation. Maybe she was reading too much into things. Maybe he didn't think of her at all. Maybe he  _was_  focused on something else, like his father's master, who took over his home. Swallowing hard, she tried to imagine how it would feel to have that monster in her childhood home, holding her parents as hostages against her. She shivered.

Obsession. Occasionally throughout her life, someone would attribute her mania about books, homework, and loyalty to obsession. Never about boys. And especially never about Draco Malfoy. That, however, was the only word she felt was adequate for what she was feeling. She couldn't even blame it on the Amortentia, for her obsession didn't start until his lips met hers. What did that even mean?

"Everything okay?" Parvati asked sleepily from the bed across from Hermione's.

Hermione whipped around, startled out of her forbidden thoughts, and clutched her throat. "Yeah… I couldn't sleep. It snowed,"

Parvati rose from her bed and joined Hermione at the window, smiling down at the unblemished snow. "Wicked,"

Both girls gasped as the sun crested the trees. The rays breaking into a billion rainbow colored fractals.

After several moments, Parvati left, trudging to the bathroom in an effort to get ready for the day. Hermione shrugged and followed. Might as well use the second shower before any of the other girls woke up. It wasn't like she could go back to sleep anyway.

**HGHG**

Torture was the only word Draco felt could describe his life. On one hand, his unforgiving master hounded him to complete his task. On the other was Granger, staring at him as if she was begging him to look at her too. And fuck, if he didn't stare just as hard when no one was looking.

Midmorning found him on the steps outside the castle behind Pansy and a few of her girlfriends. The snow was deep and paths wound hither and thither through several groups of students that were building their forts. Some barricades were just as elaborate as anyone could imagine. Others were crude, focusing on strength and defense instead of beauty.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Granger's curly hair fly around her face as she popped up from behind one of those practical, undefeatable snow walls. Snowballs whizzed across the way with extreme accuracy, knocking out anyone who dared leave their protective barriers. Draco snorted. The opposing team didn't stand a chance. Not with Granger standing against them.

"Coming, Draco?" Pansy asked, looking back at him with her large doe eyes. He nodded and contemplated the realities of his life. It would have made his life so much easier if it was Pansy that he was attracted to. Her life too. So much easier. She wound her arm through his. With a grip much stronger than he anticipated, she pulled him off the steps, and onto the path that would lead them out to Hogsmeade.

The reason he had agreed to go with the girls was so that he could visit Honeydukes, a guilty pleasure of his. That was the legitimate reason anyway. This time was different, he had something else in mind for the sweetshop. He felt wild and out of control. First, because of his unpleasant task, and last, because just buying the treat he had in mind would be a red flag to anyone who knew how much he hated the things. Not to mention candy would be fast and easy food that he could keep right in his bag. Especially for those days that he didn't make it to the Great Hall for dinner.

Hermione Granger liked sugar quills. Frequently, he would see her in the library with them sticking out of her mouth as she worked on one essay or another for one of their classes. Draco thought he was above being jealous of an inanimate object only to learn something new and unpleasant about himself. Anything that she focused her attention on made him jealous. Even a sugar quill. It was ridiculous, but there it was.

He closed his eyes and imagined the way her eyes would light up when she saw the box of candy. Just the thought of it made his heart jump in his chest. Perhaps she would even take the treats from his own hands, kissing him in thanks. Then, she would extract one of the delicate spun treats, and study it before sticking the tip in her mouth and shut her eyes in ecstasy. Draco closed his eyes and focused on breathing. He was a sixteen-year-old hot-blooded male. The thought of her twirling her tongue around the sugar quill's tip did wild things to his fantasies.

The bells on the door tinkled as he walked in and as per usual, he was awarded the same stiff, formal nod that he received from all business owners and peers alike. Being a Malfoy had something to do with that. His father, known Death Eater, had more to do with it.

Quickly, Draco slid through the crush of other students and picked up his favorites. Restocking his personal stash was paramount to keeping him from wasting away from all the meals he was missing. It was survival, plain and simple. However, sugar quills were not something he ever bought. His disgust over the pure sugar feathers was well known.

He hated the candy from the first taste and imagined the students and proprietor's eyes on his back as he picked up a box. Condemnation, as if they, and by extension- the Dark Lord, knew who he was buying the candy for. Imaginary though those feelings were; if the right people got a hold of the memory or found out that he had bought them… he would be a dead man. Why he was taking these risks, he didn't know. She would be far safer if she meant nothing to him. But he couldn't bear that. Some part of him needed to be near her and how much closer could one get than by sweetening her mouth?

He ground his teeth and adjusted himself under his robe, trying to be as discreet as possible.

Once suitably comfortable or as comfortable as a man could be in such situations, Draco turned around with his emotionless mask firmly in control of his face. The one that his mother had taught him that all good rich boys wore when they dealt with someone who was so inferior. By now, the mask was more of a defense mechanism than his actual feelings. A habit he feared he would never break, even if it served him well now.

"Can I get you anything else, Mr. Malfoy?" The proprietor asked pleasantly as he rang up Draco's total.

"This is all," Draco said woodenly, pulling several galleons out of his pocket and laying them on the counter. Trying hard not to stare at the seemingly innocuous box of sugar quills.  _This was just another day of shopping_ , he reminded himself.  _The sugar quills could be for anyone- Zabini, Nott, even Parkinson._

"Sir, why don't you sample this new candy we just got in from the continent. It is supposed to be incredible," The proprietor shoved the small box under Draco's nose, allowing him to pluck one, before slipping the whole under the counter. Bagging Draco's purchases with a flurry of activity.

Draco woodenly took the small sample and popped it in his mouth, enjoying the sharp creaminess of the hard candy.

Switching the candy from cheek to cheek, he took his purchases and left the store. Once he made it back outside amongst the clear air, his breathing became easier, the sugar quills hidden among his numerous other packages of candy.

He turned the corner of the sweetshop and slid into the shadows of the derelict alleyway. His heart beat erratically and sweat beaded on his skin. Under a pile of debris, sat a small brown paper package that had been hidden for him, and he quickly tucked it into the deep folds of his inner cloak. Practicing the  _Imperiu_ s under the watchful eye of his father, Aunt Bella, and Uncle Rodolphus was a whole different ballgame than casting it with the intention to control a specific person. And for that person to be someone he had known since his first year at Hogwarts? To use the spell on someone who was not expecting it didn't sit well, but it was his life on the line if he failed. His mother and his father both counted on him to succeed.

Draco tapped the butt of his wand to the top of his head, grimacing at the gooey feel of egg whites as it slid over his hair and body. Only when he was absolutely sure that he was as hidden as he could possibly be, he crept forward, pausing only for a moment at the back door of the village pub. He pressed his ear against the door and waited, ignoring his furious heartbeat. Hearing no movement in the back room, he turned the knob and eased open the well-oiled door.

Racks of wines and spirits filled two of the three walls. Crates, half-filled with straw, laid open, showing casks and bottles of the stronger stuff. The air was damp. The cooler, more humid temps decayed the straw packing over time but it was obvious that Rosmerta kept the place tidy. Everything was well labeled and the old straw was replaced with new.

The door to the front of the tavern was slightly ajar and the rumblings of a packed front room hummed through space. There was something calming about the background noise, and it put him at ease. If he had faced complete silence, he would have probably panicked.

Knowing that he would only have one chance to overtake Rosmerta, Draco pressed his back to the wood behind the door and waited.

Slowly, the minutes marched on as he waited. Three-quarters of an hour passed in that manner before he heard the tinkling bells of the front door. Those that had finished their drinks, and those that were just entering for a pint. A whoosh of breath left his lungs the moment he finally heard Rosmerta's cheery voice chime from the front room.

"I have to get it from the back room. Excuse me,"

Draco held his wand in a tight, unforgiving grip, and raised it. Ready to cast the moment she stepped foot over the threshold.

" _Imperio_ ," He murmured, injecting his overwhelming desire to take control. And if a little fear bled though to strengthen the unforgivable, he didn't even notice.

Rosmerta's initial shock and resistance melted into grudging compliance, and though he could feel her trying to fight against him, she was weak. There was so much to lose if she broke free. Eventually, she fell to the spell and his control was complete.

"I want you to  _Imperius_  the next girl who isn't a Slytherin, who enters the ladies' room, and give her this," He said, pulling out a small paper-wrapped parcel. "Tell her to take it to the castle and give it to Professor Dumbledore as a gift. Be creative but don't draw attention to yourself or her."

Rosmerta took the small package and slipped it into her pocket.

"Carry on with your normal duties and let me know every time the Headmaster leaves and returns to Hogwarts. Use this to send me a message," He pulled a shiny golden galleon out of his pocket and held it up so that she could see the coin. With his tongue, he shifted the hard candy to the other side of his cheek. "Grip it like this," the galleon fell into the palm of his hand as if it were a snitch that he had newly caught, and closed his fingers around it. He murmured, "leaving now."

When he opened his palm to show her the result, he pointed out the new lettering that appeared on its face.

"I have a matching one. Whatever changes you make to this one, will automatically change on mine, and vice versa."

She nodded dumbly and slipped the coin next to the package in her pocket. He watched her for a minute, while she grabbed an unopened bottle of Firewhiskey and walked back out to the bar.

"'Bout time," an older male patron complained. "Should have known better than to come on a day when Hogwarts kids come. Should have gone to the Hog's Head."

"Now, Alphius, you don't even know the days of the week, let alone know when the kids visit," Rosmerta said saucily, causing the room to erupt in laughter at Alphius' expense.

"Yeah, well," a sheepish Alphius waffled.

Draco's insides were tangled up in knots. He began to doubt that his plan would work, and feared that he would be caught. Failure was not an option.

A high tinkling laugh drew him dangerously to peek out of the door that was still slightly ajar. Granger sat at a table near the back with a partially drained butterbeer on the table in front of her, laughing at something that either Potter or Weasley said. Panic threatened to choke him as he thought of the orders that he just gave to Rosmerta, and for the first time ever, he began to pray fervently, hoping that the next girl in the loo wouldn't be Hermione Granger. He refused to let anything happen to her, and

poised on the balls of his feet, ready to act, if it looked as if Granger would be his victim.

To his relief, Katie Bell was the first girl to enter the bathrooms and she was quickly followed by Rosmerta. There was nothing more to do other than to be caught. His mother couldn't afford such a rookie mistake, and truthfully, he didn't want Granger to know. She had him all tied up in knots as it was.

Retreating back the way he had come, he walked back up to the castle alone. Unexpected guilt weighed him down, making his shoulders slump. Shouldn't he be relieved? But he wasn't. This felt like the first step into the darkness. Whatever happened to Katie Bell would be his fault. Rosmerta's  _Imperius_ was the first unforgivable that he used on another person as a means of controlling and not just practice. This made him guilty and turned him from a kid who watched from the sidelines to a man actively participating. Willing or not, he didn't think that would matter in the end. He could feel the magic-retardant manacles already fastened around his wrists. To say he hated it was an understatement.

Now that he had set into motion his plan, his focus was forced back on the sweet treat buried at the bottom of his bag. Sugar quills were something much better to think about.

Though Granger was still in the village, he wondered how he could approach her. Maybe he could even give her the treats himself. Even if he knew that he would settle for sending a little firstie to do the job instead. In doing that, he ensured his gift being accepted. Hermione wouldn't want to hurt the child's feelings, he thought with bitterness. Though, he did wonder if she  _would_  take them from him. Especially knowing they were a gift. Maybe she would, he thought. She had been staring at him, and not with death and retribution in her eyes either.

As he passed the abandoned snow forts, he remembered how she looked that morning as he had left for the village. Flushed as she landed her 'kills', taking out combatants one after another with her clever spell casting and accurate aim.

He swallowed hard and nearly choked on the shrinking candy as the fun battlefield turned darker in his mind, with men in heavy cloaks and masks wielding even deadlier spells. She would be glorious in her rage, he knew. He had seen it firsthand. Draco rubbed his jaw where she had landed her punch third-year and smiled. For such a tiny girl, she sure packed one hell of a punch.

Her fiery temper would be enough to keep her alive. It had to be. He desperately tried to shrug off the depressing thoughts.

Few students milled around the entrance way. Only those who had come in early to change out of their sodden gear, or those who had lost spectacularly and refused to show their face at the pub. He glared at one such Hufflepuff who was pantomiming the final battle where Wonder Boy and his Weasel rushed the Ravenclaw bastion, who only survived because Granger was covering them with extensive suppressive fire. Tiny snowballs that she had charmed to flow like a river against the other team. Ice pellets from the coldest parts of hell, one of them yelled. If the Hufflepuff was to be believed, and Draco did believe, Granger, put on one hell of a show.

He turned down the passageway that led deeper into the bowels of the castle, grateful for the comforting darkness that enveloped him. Darkness was becoming an old friend that he could rely on to keep his secrets. Where he could drop his mask without worry, and safely dream of her. Of them. Of what could be. Even if it was just for a short time.

**HGHG**

Hermione showered and dressed, descending into the Common to muted cheers from their snow war win. However, with Katie Bell cursed, no one was in the mood to celebrate. A gloomy and tense pall overtook the common room, a reflection of the darker political clime.

Hermione looked around and spotted Harry near the fire, trying to fend off a few admirers. Admirers that were somehow absent only the year before but claimed to have loved him forever. Ron was by the entrance, solemnly answering questions about Katie Bell's incident, having witnessed it firsthand.

Fighting her way to Harry's side was no mean feat. Jealous girls who wanted his attention tried to bar the way, but she wasn't having any of that. There wasn't anything to be jealous of. He was her best friend. That was all.

"Hermione!" Harry called with relief.

"Hey Harry, I'm going to the library. I'll meet you and Ron at dinner." She said quietly, eyeballing his jealous fans.

"I'll go with you!" He shook off one set of hands only to be grabbed by another. His eyes began to shine with panic, and he reached out for her in misery.

Hermione arched her brow in mock question, and he colored. "You want to go to the library? Tonight? On a weekend?"

"I have that essay due," Harry said desperately, prying off the new set of hands that had no business being on his person.

"Which one?" Hermione asked playfully, enjoying, for the moment, his predicament.

"That one for Snape, you know the one," Finally he was free, and he moved closer to Hermione for protection.

"Professor Snape," she corrected and nodded, giving the impression that they did have an essay from Snape due. He could work on the one from charms. She knew he hadn't started it yet, even though it was due in less than a week. She gave each girl a look. They all knew not to stand between Hermione and her studies, and if Harry Potter intended on studying with her, the girls knew to back off. Even if none of them went quietly. Complaints about Harry and Hermione's 'real' relationship and their take on why the two were hiding it from everyone else was not in the least bit subdued or quiet. Hermione didn't roll her eyes, but only out of sheer force of will.

The girls let the duo pass, glaring all the while, and once Ron declared he didn't want to go with them, Harry and Hermione made their way down to the library. Happily, they chatted about the epic snowball fight and how next time, they would change things up. Harry had a charm he thought he might modify.

Few people were in the library when they arrived, but Hermione's gaze flew to Malfoy the moment she spotted him at her usual table. His head was bent as he wrote, working diligently on what she assumed was the same assignment they intended to work on. Her heart leaped into her throat as Harry claimed the next table over from where he sat. No doubt a vain attempt to see if Malfoy was doing anything nefarious. She had a difficult time tearing her gaze away from the elegant hand that paused with his quill poised above his parchment.

"So, what is the essay about?" Harry asked, glaring daggers at Malfoy while also trying to appear nonchalant as he peered over his nemesis' shoulder to see what he was writing. Not that he was doing a good job of it being a whole table removed. Malfoy looked up and knocked the breath right out of her. His eyes once again caressed her lips and darkened, before dropping back to his work.

"What essay?" Hermione asked absentmindedly. If Malfoy was going to pretend that nothing happened between them, she would too. Pulling out books one by one, she tried not to be overly interested in the blond who sat at the next table over but failed miserably.

"Snape's essay," Harry prompted her, throwing Malfoy dirty looks.

"Professor Snape," Hermione corrected automatically. "and there is no essay for Defense. The one for Charms is due on Friday, you should start with that."

"Right," Harry said, digging his things out of his bag. Upon finding the assignment, he read the topic and took off in the stacks, hunting for source material. Shooting suspicious glances in Malfoy's direction all the while, as if he was merely waiting for Harry to leave in order to continue enacting his Death Eater activities.

Hermione sat, pushing the books she had been utilizing for her essay around the table. Once everything was laid out around her to her satisfaction, she grabbed her assignment and started to read. Again, as if unable to help herself, she looked up at him. She went rigid. This time, he was much closer, standing directly behind Harry's chair. With the quick reflexes of a Seeker, he reached across the table and slid her assignment out of her hands. It wasn't until he flipped it that she realized that she hadn't read a single word.

**HGHG**

Draco's heart was pounding. The moment Hermione walked into the library and headed his way, he knew he wouldn't be able to concentrate on his homework. The sugar quills sat heavy in one of his pockets and his fingers itched to present them to her. But she wasn't alone. Potter had come with her. His heart sank to his stomach and he knew that it wasn't very likely that he would get to talk to her. Quickly, his eyes darted around the secluded spot he had chosen before dropping back to his parchment. No one else was around other than Granger and Potter.

He could smell her soft scent from a whole table over and paused, looking up as if he was compelled. She was already staring at him and something inside him roared with satisfaction. Granger looked away first, pink tinging her cheekbones. Draco tore his gaze off of her, knowing that Potter was still there and glaring at him. After a few minutes, Potter left, presumably off to find a book that he needed for his assignment. A book that Draco knew for a fact was shelved wrong. It would be quite a while before Potter was back. Now was his chance.

The moment she was alone, he raised his eyes to her face, inevitably pulled into staring as he studied her silhouette in profile. Hermione swallowed hard when she noticed Draco's stare and turned back to the half-completed assignment in front of her. He stood and came closer, only the width of the table separating them.

"I thought you were ignoring me," Hermione said, trying to come off as uncaring as she pulled her assignment in front of her and began to read. He smirked. The top portion of the parchment folded over as she began 'reading' and noticed that her assignment was upside down. Reaching over, he tugged the roll of parchment out of her hands and turned it over, setting it back in her hands.

"And if I didn't ignore you? You think that would end well?" She had no fucking clue just how hard Draco had to fight to make it appear as if he lost interest in her these last few weeks.

"I think I ingested some of that potion too," she whispered instead of answering, almost more to herself than him. He felt his heart stutter to a stop and then double the speed of its pumping. "it is the only answer,"

He rounded the table and kneeled next to her chair, hoping that he was as hidden as he thought he was. Prizing her assignment out of her hands, he laid the unfinished work on the table and took her hands in his. "That potion would have worn off by now. I checked." He reached up and tucked an errant curl behind her ear. Her moistened lips parted, and he felt her warm breath on his wrist.

"You checked because you thought that Professor Snape's antidote didn't work?" Finally, she met and held his intense gaze. She obviously wanted to know his answer, very much, too.

"It worked. If it hadn't, I would not be able to be away from you for even a second. I feel it though, sometimes, a compulsion…" he bit off his sentence, forcing himself to stop. He couldn't tell her just how deep she was infused in his everyday life, in his mind. Deep inside, he knew that his feelings were his own and not a product of the potion because he had felt this way for a long time. A lot longer than he cared to admit. The difference was that now, he couldn't stop himself from giving in to them.

"My mind says that you, ignoring me, is a good thing. The compulsion, as you so aptly named it, says otherwise. Don't you think you should ask the Professor for his professional opinion?"

"And let a Death Eater know about this?" he asked gesturing between the two of them.

"There is nothing going on between us," she dropped her eyes and inked her quill, pulling her parchment close.

He snorted before he could stop himself. "I would believe that except even my housemates have noticed you eye-fucking at me in classes, the Great Hall, and in the corridors. Shall I go on?" Though he said that, no one had said anything or gave any indication that they suspected something was going on between Granger and him. It was really just an excuse to make her react.

"That…" Blushing to the very roots of her hair, Hermione pressed extra hard on her quill, which resulted in a great glob of ink on her paper and a broken tip. She tossed the quill of betrayal aside and flipped open one of her books, once again refusing to meet and keep his gaze for longer than a few seconds.

Arching his brow, he fought the cocky smirk that turned his lips up without permission. The swirling feelings that he had in his stomach when they were together alone on the Quidditch pitch returned. Her fragrance, so sweet and subtle, threated to enchant him wholly. Making him putty in her tiny but capable hands.

Reaching up, he cupped her cheek and marveled at the enigmatic little smile that curved her lips. His thumb teased the quirked corner. Her breath caught and he leaned in, fully intending on tasting her again, damn the consequences.

Inches from fulfilling his desire, dizziness suddenly overwhelmed him. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, hoping to push away the disorienting feeling. But no matter what he did, the sickness seemed to intensify. Dropping his head to her arm, he tried to stabilize himself from falling on his arse and make an idiot out of himself. He blinked repeatedly struggling to clear his eyes of the spinning room.

"What are you doing?" she demanded in a tense, worried whisper. Was that disappointment that tinged her worry? Surely, he would appreciate that later when he wasn't about to empty his stomach on her legs.

"I'm not feeling well," He swallowed, shaking his head to rid himself of the wooziness, but only succeeded in making it worse. Her hand slid into the hair on the back of his head, stroking comfortingly. As she would do for anyone who was sick, he was sure.

Granger suddenly startled and looked up, panicking as Potter materialized from the shelving, making his way back to the table. Immediately, Draco felt the cool strangeness of raw eggs running over his body, from the top down, for the second time that day. With her hand still on his head, she pushed him down under the table until his cheek rested on her thigh. One of his hands gripped her knee like a life preserver, his other rested just above her waist, thumb nearly brushing the underside of her breast. This too would be appreciated later, but right now, he needed to concentrate on not collapsing at her feet. Idly, he wondered what Potter would think of that.

Closing his eyes against the world that should have been still; he struggled to keep his breathing low and slow. Her cool thigh pressed against his burning face. Savoring her nearness, he soaked up her touch, like a needy puppy. She was like fresh water after days of thirst, a simple meal after weeks of hunger, love after a lifetime of isolation.

"Where did he go?" Potter asked Granger belligerently.

Draco felt her shrug.

"He left all of his things. Strange don't you think?" Harry pressed.

"How should I know what Malfoy is up to? I was working. One minute he was there and the next…" she shrugged again. Her fingers tightened in his hair for a second before she continued stroking.

"He is up to something," Harry said mulishly. "I know he had something to do with that necklace."

"Harry, what could he be up to? He is here at Hogwarts under Dumbledore's watchful eyes. Subjected to the same search as we were at the beginning of the term. There is no way he was able to sneak in that necklace!" she said vehemently, and it made Draco's stomach plummet to his toes before clawing back up his throat. Potter was a lot more astute than she was giving him credit for, far more observant than this clever, distracted witch.

Guilt laid heavy in his gut, upsetting his already churning stomach even more. If he heard one more word about how she thought he wasn't a threat to her, he would puke, heaving the entirety of his last meal onto her lap. Draco had to get out of there. In this state, he wouldn't be gifting her anything except his sick. How would they explain that to Potter?

Extricating himself from her glorious fingers without being seen was quite another matter.

Slowly, so as not to disturb the efficiency of the spell, he reached up and grabbed her wrist, stopping her petting motion in its tracks. He could tell that she wanted him to sit there quietly like a good little boy, but he had news for her. There was no one in the library, the entire school, more dangerous to her than him. Prying her fingers out of his hair, he slid back, nearly panting with the effort.

How Potter was so observant and yet so obtuse, he would never know. Potter was ranting about how he thought that Draco was a Death Eater, while Hermione sat there saying nothing. One point for Potter. And during the whole tirade, Draco was right there in Granger's lap. Point taken away.

"It would be easy for someone to have met him with the package in Hogsmeade earlier in the day," Harry said stubbornly, and damn if he didn't get close to nailing it.

"You should try looking at the  _Book of Stilton by Gerald Hime._ I found it very helpful in finishing the work." Granger cut off Potter mid-tirade. Potter blinked at her like an owl before slamming his lips together in a furious line. It worked though, and Potter left them, heading back to the Charms section. Granger let out a disgruntled breath.

"What do you think you are doing?" she hissed at Draco's bowed head. "He could have seen you."

"Listen," He rasped, unable to keep his eyes open very long. Something was very, very wrong with him, and he needed to go to the infirmary. Quickly. "Remember the empty classroom we met in? Meet me there on Thursday while the Gryffindors are on the pitch."

He didn't stay to see if she agreed or not. Grabbing his bag, he stuffed it with all of his papers. Draco stumbled out of the library, hoping he would run into another Slytherin who would help him to the Hospital Wing.

**HGHG**

Hermione flicked her wand at Malfoy as he lurched out of the library, lifted the disillusionment that she had put him under, and winced as his shoulder made loud contact with the wood frame of the door.

Feeling torn, she watched him retreat. She should follow him and make sure that he got to Madame Pomfrey safely.

Merlin knew Peeves had been on a rampage ever since Filch tattled on the Poltergeist to the Headmaster for throwing buckets of ice water on first years just coming out of the bath, resulting in an uptick of colds and Pepper-up potions that had to be administered. What would the mischievous poltergeist do to a sick Slytherin who was all alone? Nothing good, she was sure.

Harry came back to the table and tossed the heavy tome that she recommended on the table, causing Hermione to jump from the loud bang. Madame Prince made hushing noises, but Harry ignored her and sat sullenly in the chair across Hermione. Ever since he lost Sirius at the Ministry last May, he became moody and sullen, especially if someone didn't take his theories seriously enough. Hermione knew he blamed himself for Sirius' death, but Hermione felt that it was all just a tragic accident. They could spend days passing the blame but, in the end, it didn't change anything.

"Harry, I know you think he is marked but you have to allow that I may not share your every view, and on this topic, I happen to disagree. Come to me with solid evidence, and I swear to Merlin that I will believe you. Until then, I will be skeptical." Hermione stood up and repacked her bags.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked in a calmer, milder, tone of voice. "I thought you and I were going to do the assignment together,"

"I'm just not feeling the best. Lady issues." She didn't often use her monthlies as an excuse, but sometimes, she just needed to get away and not tell her friends why. This was one of those times.

Harry nodded, a slight blush on his face. It was obvious that he was still angry, but he was the sympathetic sort and would be much more forgiving under the circumstances. She knew that there was no way in hell he would ask any more questions of her and she felt slightly guilty about the fib as she left him at that table alone until she remembered the state of Malfoy. Then, a whole new round of worries and guilt began.

She was two floors up when she saw him sprawled on the floor, unconscious. She leaned down and felt his head, smoothing his bangs out of the way, and grimaced. He was burning up! How, in Nimue's rippling lake, did she miss that in the library?

Standing up, she raised her wand, and muttered, "Mobilicorpus,"

Draco rose off the floor, only by a few inches, and hovered until she directed his path with her wand. It would be a feat to get him all the way to the Infirmary without anyone seeing, but if she didn't take him? Who would?

**HGHG**

Draco blinked open his eyes, looking around a bit dazed. He was in the Hospital wing, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember how he got there.

"Malfoy?" a small voice quivered from somewhere near his elbow.

"What?" He asked, harsher than he intended and glared at a second year from his own house as the boy flinched. Draco sighed before asking again in a slightly gentler tone, "what is it?"

"This was just delivered for you," The boy held out a letter in his shaking fist.

Draco stared at the rolled parchment as if it were a venomous snake, intending on striking. After hesitating a moment, he took the parchment and didn't even notice that Hobbs had run as fast as he could towards the door, putting an unprecedented amount of distance between the two of them.

Draco stared at the unbroken seal, dread swirling in the pit of his stomach. It was from his father, or rather, his master in his father's voice. Somehow, Draco thought the second was so much worse than the first.

_Draco,_

_We have been so disappointed in your lack of progress. Our guest would have thought you to be finished by now but what rankles even worse is the decided lack of communication. He wants to know how you intend on following out your… goal._

_Tick-Tock son,_

_Your mother bids you hurry._

_Father_

_P.s. Our guest wondered if you enjoyed the sweet sample that he developed just for you._

Draco felt the vomit claw its way up into his throat, burning his esophagus in its wake. With an iron will, he ignored the tiny stamp of approval from the warden of Azkaban in the corner. His stomach pitched and rolled as panic truly began to set in. Grim with the reality that he may not be able to fix the cabinet, he wracked his brain again, searching for any helpful ideas that would work instead. He needed to think of something and soon so that he could send word of his success before his mother fell under their master's wrath.

The postscript made him think back to his visit to Honeydukes. Now that he was looking back with a critical eye, he could tell the shopkeeper was acting unusual, shady, as he basically pushed the box of sample candies under Draco's nose. Of course, he hadn't noticed at the time, fearing that he would get caught with his own unusual purchase. He closed his eyes. Message received.

First, he had to get out of the Hospital Wing. He looked around the peaceful ward and noticed that there were only a few students who laid in cots across the way. A little girl, Hufflepuff- if he remembered correctly, was staring at him curiously. He scowled at her until she looked away, blushing with mortification. Without another thought, Draco threw back the blankets and found his shoes, stuffing his feet in them as quick as possible. Only stopping long enough to grab his robes from the chair next to his cot. With one last look around the space that had been given to him to use, he left, letting the door swing shut with a bang behind him. Good riddance.

He had a girl to meet, words to say, and an offer to give. Hope and doubt co-mingled in his stomach.

If wishes were unicorns, beggars would ride.


	4. Abandoned Classroom Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thanks to CJRed for Alpha reading this story.
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr as Jessiyl. I've been posting chapter by chapter teasers if anyone is interested.
> 
> Updates Every Thursday!

**Chapter Four- Abandoned Classroom Three**

Hermione paced back and forth in the empty classroom, the one that was quickly becoming theirs. Earlier in the day, she had checked the Hospital Wing, just to make sure Malfoy was okay. Only to be told by a third year Hufflepuff that Malfoy had left first thing that morning, even before the matron had released him. Apparently, it set Pomfrey in a bad mood and she was snippier than usual. The Hufflepuff had advised her that unless Hermione was dealing with an emergency, she should hightail it out of there and deal with her ailment on her own. Hermione thanked the girl and retreated, biding her time until the meeting was set to take place, hoping that in the fog of his delirium he hadn't forgotten.

"Tempus," she murmured for the seventh time in three minutes. Despite being ten minutes early, her agitation with his timekeeping grew and grew. Worry for him compounded her exasperation; guilt added a unique flavor.

Finally, after ages of waiting, the knob turned, and Malfoy stood there impressively framed by the open door. When had he gotten so big? Hermione's mouth instantly dried as if cotton balls had grown in the place of her tongue. Seeing him was like a fresh breath of air after the stifling oppression of a dank enclosed space.

He quirked his lips, eyes shining as he noticed her watching him. "Hello, Granger,"

Tearing her gaze away, her lips pursed in agitation. "Malfoy,"

Chuckling, he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He was only a few feet away when he stopped at one of the abandoned desks, stripped off his outer robe, and carelessly tossed it over the top. Across the aisle from Hermione, Draco leaned against another desk's edge, and she couldn't help but drink up the sight of him.

Pure sin was the only way she could describe him. He held himself poised to spring like a jungle cat who was tracking his prey through the leafy branches of the tree he graced. If she was forced to put a name to the way he looked, she would say he was coiled seduction and elegance. In a tailored white Oxford with sleeves rolled to his elbow that showed the pristine ivory of his naked skin and a pair of black trousers slung low on his hips. Insanely, she wondered if his belt was the only reason his trousers stayed up at all and imagined what would happen if she just reached over, unbuckled the leather, and pulled until the thick strap was doubled in her hands. Visions of the flawless black wool pooled around his feet danced obscenely in her mind's eye.

"You think you are still under the effects of the Amortentia? Were you ever even under it? I seem to remember being the only one on his knees for you. I don't recall you even dropping composure, so swift were you to rat me out to Snape." He said, pulling her from one of her many fantasies and bringing her back to the reason they were both there.

"Professor Snape," She corrected automatically, swallowing despite being parched. Malfoy snorted.

"I will address my Godfather how I see fit,"

Hermione rolled her eyes, annoyed all over again.

"And I am fine, by the way," He added, lips curving up as he watched her get her knickers in a twist. "Thanks for asking."

"I know," she said softly, her eyes tender and remorseful. Worried.

He arched his brow, lips in a full-on grin. "You know? How?" He leaned closer, mischief danced in his eyes. "Were you checking up on me?"

"How did you imagine you got to the Hospital Wing?" she sniffed.

" _You_  took me?" It was insulting how shocked he looked. "I thought that was Theo," he murmured.

"Yes,  _I_  did. Did you really think I would let you go after knowing that you were sick? Who do you take me for?"

"I almost forgot I was dealing with a Gryffindor," he said.

"I'm glad you are better," she said. "What was wrong with you, anyway?"

His smile dropped and he immediately studied the dusty floor, the sides of the desk in his steely, white-knuckled grip. Hermione could barely hear his response it was so low. "Nothing,"

"Nothing? It didn't look like nothing." She stared at him, moving in closer, and reached out, questing fingers cradled either side of his neck. Her thumbs slid over the thrumming beat of his carotid, causing him to shiver.

"What are you doing?" He asked. Her touch must have shocked him out of whatever dark thoughts called to him.

"I am testing out a theory?"

His eyes met hers. "A theory?"

"Uh huh,"

"And that is?"

Hermione used her knee to part his legs and he let her without further comment. He was watching her avidly – breathless - and she stepped between them until her lips were hovering right next to his ear. She breathed his scent, enjoying being the one to touch first, and pressed her lips over the pulse point of his neck. Blood raced through the artery, and she could feel it; the frenetic pumping. Hesitantly, she flicked her tongue on the skin, curious if he tasted as good as he smelled - as good as he had in her dreams.

He did.

Malfoy was salt, tart apples, and man. If man was even a legitimate taste.

"What are you doing?" he whispered in a husky voice, still not touching her. But since he didn't move an inch to stop her, she assumed he was just as eager as she was to see where things would go.

"Tasting you," she murmured against his neck and her warm breath made him shiver.

His hands came up around her waist and he pulled her even closer. "Don't start what you can't finish,"

Hermione laughed softly, stepping back. She ran her hands over his shoulders, stopping momentarily on his chest, appreciating the feel of the sinuous musculature from all the years he spent playing Quidditch. "Do you see what I meant? The compulsion to be with you, to touch you, to taste you… There is nothing else like it,"

"But you didn't feel this way the whole time, right?"

"Not until you kissed me. Well, that is not exactly true either. That night, I was convinced I was dosed too. The dose would have been minuscule, able to be slept off in the night. And the weird swirly feelings died upon waking. I was good, fine even until you kissed me."

"Oh, sweet Hermione," He murmured. "I think you are lying to yourself. That next day, you didn't think of me once? Butterflies didn't invade your stomach? Your body didn't clench with want of me?" He leaned into her face until he could feel her little panting breaths on his own lips. "Liar."

Hermione stepped back further, letting her hands fall to her sides. She was wound up, pulsating at her core, hot and wet. "This isn't real,"

"I wish it wasn't either," He continued, following her retreat. "Do you think it is safe for  _me_? For my  _family_? Do you think if my father's master found out he would throw us a party to celebrate? Denying this is more dangerous than admitting it to myself. He could stumble upon it at any moment if I go around without protecting us."

She looked away biting her bottom lip, avoiding his gaze.

"You think you are hunted now?" He laughed humorlessly. "The second any one of them find out what you mean to me is the second you become more hunted than Potter. You threaten everything they stand for, every prejudice they have built their thrones upon. If I, Draco Malfoy, the most sought-after  _Bachelor of Wizarding Society_ , nurture something even remotely soft towards you," he shook his head, unable to articulate just how dead she would be if anyone had an inkling their feelings. "Potter may be the Dark Lord's focus, but every single Death Eater will be gunning for you,"

Hermione smirked and met his eyes. "You are naive if you think for one moment that I am not already as hunted as Harry. I've battled them - those terrifyingly powerful wizards and I have walked out the other side, alive."

"You were fucking lucky," he argued, angrily.

She nodded her head. "Yeah. Maybe. But it wasn't luck that silenced Dolohov. It wasn't luck that I knew spells to slow them, stop them, fight them."

"You are so clever and resourceful but so are they. They underestimated you that first time. They won't do it again. Not with the threat of the Dark Lord's punishment awaiting their failure."

"I have no choice. They have left me no other option,"

"I can hide you. I have a secret-kept house in France that no one knows about, not even my parents. Here is your option. Live and stay safe. I will send you today," He said passionately, eyes gleaming with the urge to protect. If she didn't know better, she would say he looked a bit desperate as well.

Inches separated them, but it could have been miles. "I can't abandon Harry. He needs me,"

Malfoy shook his head and looked away, smiling and chuckling as if her response was the funniest thing in the world. "Fucking Potter. It's always Potter. Ruins absolutely everything!"

"Don't," Hermione said furiously, hair sparking, finger wagging in his face. "You have no idea what he is up against!"

"No? I think I know  _better_  than anyone else! The Dark Lord lives in my fucking house!"

Hermione closed her eyes. She couldn't explain anything, not without jeopardizing everything. Someday, whatever this was between them would dissipate. She wouldn't be the fool left holding the bag. "I can't,"

He nodded and walked backward, grabbing his cloak off the extra desk and spun on the balls of his feet.

"You're leaving?" she asked softly, regretfully. Not because she changed her mind but because watching him leave was hard. A physical ache.

"What would you have me do?" he finally asked after several minutes of silence. "Should I stick around to watch you die?"

"Malfoy,"

He didn't wait to hear what she might have said and walked out of the door and was down the hall before his exodus registered. Hermione closed her eyes and swallowed. Bitter. What did he expect? Did he really think she would abandon everyone she loved and cared for to keep herself safe?

She could no more flee than him. If he could have, he would have already gone, she thought sadly. And where the hell did that leave them?

Hermione looked down; a small rolled parchment sat abandoned under the desk that had held his cloak. Without another thought, she reached down and stared at the tightly rolled note with a broken wax seal. A beautifully crafted M in a master calligrapher's script.

To open it or not to open it, that was the question.

**HGHG**

Draco nearly gagged on his anger. Words, just meaningless words, he raged in his head. Every tender word, every touch from her tiny hands were all lies. If she cared for him, she would hide for him, so that the Dark Lord had one less person to leverage against him. She was so caught up in Potter's problems, but Draco's real and imminent threat of death? HA! If she truly cared, she would have given in, taken the gift he practically begged her to take.

Students of all houses had avoided him like the plague as he war-pathed from the third floor down to the Slytherin Common room. Even after he crossed the threshold, students changed directions in fear. He wasn't overly cruel to other Slytherins, never had been, but the new status branded on his arm changed the rules of the game. No one wanted to test the boundaries of his mercy.

Except for Theo, he thought with a small smile, as he met the inquiring gaze from where Theo sat on the couch opposite the overly large fireplace.

"Everything alright?" Theo asked once Draco got close enough. The blond sat heavily on the couch and ran his hands over his face. "That good, eh?"

He truly wished he could talk to his friend about everything. His mission, the Amortentia, Granger and their latest fight. But he shouldn't put Theo in that position, despite his stellar skills. Draco was forced to learn Occlumency on his own, hoping it would be enough to hide the important bits. At least Theo had several more years before the Dark Lord showed any interest. Several more years to practice hiding his thoughts. Even if he was already well accomplished in that regard. After all, it was Lucius' failures and punishments that led Draco to be where he was. Not his own merits or lack thereof.

"Look," Theo said, lowering his voice and flicking his wand quickly around them, before settling in and casting a silencing charm layered so thick that a bomb exploding wouldn't break the barrier. "The old man isn't very good about keeping secrets and even less from me. There is no love lost between us, but I am his only son and he has made it crystal clear that I will do what I am told. He would offer me up to the Dark Lord himself if I already had an heir. The bastard even suggested marrying over Christmas so that I can get her pregnant and join him at the Dark Lord's side by Easter." Theo snorted. "Bastard. Anyway, I know you have a mission and I have a pretty good idea what it is. If you need anything…"

Draco was already shaking his head before the offer was even extended. "Don't be an idiot, Theo."

Theo smirked and put his hands on the back of his neck, looking up at the green-tinged ceiling. "It's not what we thought, was it?"

"I don't think the war is what our fathers thought either. Things are different this time, darker. The lines are blurring between who can be targeted and who can't," He said quietly. If he didn't already know that Theo was better than most at hiding his thoughts and feelings, he would never have shared so much. Theo's hard upbringing made him better equipped to handle the repercussions of being a Death Eater's son. Another Occlumens by necessity, not desire.

"Fuckers," Theo muttered. "willing to follow a madman just because he was once great. Now he is fucking crazy."

Draco nodded hesitantly. He needed more Occlumency training before he was willing to go any further. It wasn't Theo that threatened to expose them both.

They sat in silence for a while, both staring at the crackling fire without truly seeing it.

"Who is she?" Theo finally asked in a quiet murmur. "It's Granger, isn't it?"

Draco closed his eyes. Of course, Theo would pick up on his strange behavior and connect it to a woman. He must not have been as subtle as he thought. "Don't ask me that,"

Theo nodded, dropping the subject altogether. "Hogsmeade was fun,"

Draco nodded, wondering where he was going with this line of thought.

"Fletcher said he saw you in Honeydukes," Theo gave Draco major side eye. Draco began to sweat under the heavy robes he put back on after his disastrous meeting with Granger.

"Yeah?"

"Swore to Merlin that you bought sugar quills. It only stuck out because fifth year, nearly all the Hufflepuffs tried to bribe your ass while you were on the Inquisitorial Squad for Umbridge. Said he vividly remembers your thoughts on the stuff."

Draco cleared his throat. "They were a gift,"

"Merlin's Fucking Balls! It  _is_  Granger," Theo said disbelievingly. "And don't try to deny it. Everyone knows that she is addicted to the things. That coupled with the knowledge that you have been looking at her with lust and something a lot more tender."

"Fuck off Theo,"

"Oh, no! I'm not letting you get out of this one." Theo laughed, amused by the glowering face of his friend before turning serious. "I swear to Merlin if you tell me that she is the one, that you found your Persephone, I will be right there with you mate,"

"You were raised on the same shit I was. Why would you protect me or her?"

Theo gave Draco a strange look "Don't you remember that my Mum was half-blood? In our family, it was a shameful truth craftily hidden. You think the truly pureblooded care about Muggleborns? Nah, it's mostly just the ones with some muggle skeletons in the bride closets. For enough money, any truth can be hidden, rewritten. Once my old man had an heir, he did away with his embarrassing wife. No one talked about it, but everyone knew. There was not one person who attended her funeral who actually felt sad at her loss. Other than me that is…"

"Theo, Mate," Draco said, forgetting Theo's lineage. It hadn't mattered when they were boys, and it didn't matter now.

"Listen, Draco," Theo said, elbows leaning heavily on his knees. "You ever wonder why the Squib-born population is so high among our people? I think it has to do with the lack of fresh blood. Look at Dumbledore. A half-blood and one of the most powerful wizards. Coincidence?"

"Look at my father. He is powerful."

"Yeah but not Dumbledore powerful. I'm just saying,"

"You think purebloods need to marry new blood?"

"Fuck yeah! A pureblood marrying another pureblood is close enough to be marrying a sibling these days with all the interbreeding our kind has been doing. Fresh blood is where it's at."

Draco laughed and shook his head. Count on Theo to say the exact thing he wanted to hear. Having someone in his corner… it was an invaluable gift.

"So," Theo said leaning in and wagging his brows conspiratorially. "Granger, huh?"

Draco groaned, finally deciding to open up. "She's angry at me,"

"What's new?"

"I asked her to do something. I thought she was going to cast an unforgivable on me right there,"

"What the fuck did you ask her to do?"

"I asked her to hide in a secret kept house in France,"

Theo whistled. "Dumb son of a bitch,"

"Tell me about it,"

"What does she think of your feelings toward her?"

"Surprisingly receptive,"

"Really?" Theo raised his brows, obviously shocked.

"Mate, you don't even know the half of the story," Draco said, settling in. "It all started with a bottle of unlabeled Amortentia and spiraled from there."

"No shit? Granger dosed you with Amortentia? She has even more moxie than I have been giving her credit for."

"No, of course, she didn't. This is Hermione Granger we are talking about. The Amortentia was mine. Granger was just trying to confiscate it. There was a bit of a struggle and one thing led to another and we both fell, shattering the vial which embedded partially into my scalp."

Theo whistled again. "I'm not even going to ask why you had a bottle of Amortentia. Was she dosed too?"

"Maybe? I don't know. It would explain why she is showing me anything other than annoyance and dislike. Although, by all accounts, it should have already worn off."

"Should have?"

"I was given an antidote made by Snape personally, but I still have doubts that the Amortentia is out of my system. She didn't take an antidote."

"Amortentia isn't a potion that is a one and done application. It needs to be re-administered daily to be effective. How long has it been, exactly?"

"Weeks,"

"You, my friend, are not under Amortentia. There is no way. This, whatever it is, is how you really feel for her."

"Okay, say I go along with that. This isn't the first time I have noticed her in a positive light over the years, but Theo, she wants to kiss me, touch me, be near me as much as I want all of that from her. Tell me that is not insane."

"It's totally insane!" Theo agreed, smiling so big, his white teeth sparkled.

"Shut it," Draco grouched, making Theo smile even wider.

"If you insist,"

**HGHG**

Hermione sat on her bed, legs crisscrossed, Malfoy's letter laying untouched on top of her blanket. It could have been a venomous snake for all the caution she was treating it with.

On one hand, the seal was already broken, and it wasn't like she had stolen it. It had almost literally fallen into her hands. On the other, it was a huge invasion of privacy and if the tables were turned, she would be furious if he had read an important letter that Harry had sent her. Then again, it was from the Malfoys, his parents. It was probably filled with worry, love, and advice. But Malfoy had told her that his parents were not alone in their home, that Voldemort had more or less taken over. What if it was a warning? Voldemort wasn't known for his easy-going, happy-go-lucky side. What if it was a letter about Malfoy's family and how they were being tortured?

Hermione put her hands over her mouth, eyes wide. What if he had dropped this letter on purpose so that she would read it and save them?

She picked up the scroll and held it tightly in her fists. What if he needed her connections to pull his family out of whatever dark pit Voldemort entrapped them? What if Voldemort wants Draco dead? What if the whole family wanted to switch sides? She couldn't afford to ignore a possibility such as that.

"Go to bed, Hermione," Lavender complained. "The light is keeping me awake."

Hermione rolled her eyes and shut her bed curtains firmly. It annoyed her that Lavender never drew her curtains, always harping on the other girls to put out their Lumos' when it was still decently early. The annoyance faded rather quickly when she turned her attention back to the letter in her hand.

She was going to read it, she decided. She couldn't take the chance that it wasn't some cry of help. If he needed her…

Unfurling the scroll, Hermione held her breath, reading as if her life depended on it. The more she read, the more upset she became. She didn't know if it was a threat from his father or Voldemort, but that part wasn't what really pulled her attention. She was damn good at reading between the lines and if she wasn't mistaken, it looked like Malfoy had been given a task and that Voldemort wasn't pleased that Malfoy had not completed it yet. It was also clear that Malfoy's mother was definitely being used to keep her son in line, his father, maybe not as much. In her opinion, his father was truly lost to Draco. And that was a sad thought. A boy shouldn't have to beg his father to be a good father.

Then again, what did she truly know about Malfoy family politics?

Either way, she truly doubted he had left this for her to read and now she just felt as if she had broken trust without realizing that his trust was something she wanted.

Merlin, she felt ridiculous. They had a war to win and she was feeling guilty over reading the mail of her sort of love interest, whose family was right and tight with the enemy. Dumbledore would not be amused. Then again, he probably already knew what was going on, having Professor Snape as a spy and all.

She shoved the note under her pillow, resolved to ask Malfoy about it tomorrow. Tonight, she would sleep, she told herself sternly, then she would wake up refreshed in the morning and know exactly what to do.

She didn't fall asleep until the morning sun crested the Forbidden Forest.

**HGHG**

Draco leaned against the wall outside of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. It was a struggle not to fall asleep, having spent the night prior in the Room of Hidden Things. After his talk with Theo, he was too wired, too keyed up to sleep and focusing on the cabinet kept his mind clear of the fight between Granger and himself.

He flicked his eyes upward as he heard Granger's tinkling laugh echo down the corridor and scowled, dropping his gaze back down to his shoes. It was always a punch to the gut on the days when Draco saw her surrounded by the two idiots, she called her friends. She was so happy, so carefree around them. And what was he? A huge bloody mess.

Perfume trailed behind her as they passed, and not even Potter stopped to make a comment about Draco and the way he looked so run down. Theo bumped his shoulder with his own and waggled his brows before taking up residence on the wall right next to Draco, startling him out of his scowling reverie.

"Want me to pick a fight with Potter and Weasley?"

"Why would I want that?" Draco grimaced.

"They would be focused on something else and you could talk to her."

"In the middle of the bloody hallway where anyone could see us? Are you mad?"

Theo shrugged. "Just trying to be the best wingman ever,"

Draco rolled his eyes and switched which hand he was holding his books with, leaning his head back against the wall with a sigh. He closed his eyes, wishing he had more time to fix the cabinet. If only he could skive off classes without being noticed…

The door to the classroom opened and Snape billowed out, looking down his considerable nose with a grimace of disgust as he caught sight of Potter. Draco couldn't help but smirk. Snape was the only teacher who didn't think rainbows poured from the Boy-Who-Wouldn't-Die's arse. Draco had to enjoy the ridicule when possible.

The class flowed in silently, already sensing the Friday morning double period was going to be a bitch. Draco waited until the Gryffindors had all filed in first, not willing to walk in when he might touch her on accident, but also unwilling to be the last student which would allow Snape to pull him aside and ask uncomfortable questions.

For a moment fear clenched in his gut. The same unrelenting fear that had been driving him so hard since the beginning of term. Time was running out and that cabinet was nowhere near ready. He needed to think of another plan. Something better than the necklace debacle. Something that had much better odds of working.

He took his seat next to Nott and flinched as Snape slammed the door behind the last student who had scurried in seconds before the bell, keeping his head down as Snape swept up the aisle.

"Turn to page 197 in your books and read silently."

The class opened the books already placed on tables and began reading. None but Potter dared to glare ungratefully at their Defense teacher.

"Problem, Potter?" Snape sneered. "Need someone to read to you? I'm afraid I wasn't aware I needed to be a nursemaid too."

Draco watched as Potter's face turned bright red, the fight flashing red-hot in his eyes. Snickering filled the room as the Slytherins settled in to enjoy the frequent bullying of Gryffindors.

Granger laid a hand on Potter's arm, stopping him from saying something stupid no doubt. But Draco's eyes were pinned to that spot, hating that she felt comfortable enough to lay her hands on Potter as if that was something that she did all the time. It probably was, his inner voice sneered.

Nott leaned in and whispered into Draco's ear as he looked in the same place that held Draco captivated. "Makes you really want to punish him, doesn't it?"

Shutting down his thoughts and hiding behind his perfectly crafted mask was a struggle. It was getting harder and harder to pretend. Especially when it came to Hermione Granger.

Draco grumbled, tearing his eyes away from the whole scene, concentrating on the reading assignment. Luckily, both Potter and Nott settled down; one with bad grace, one with a mocking bow.

**HGHG**

Hermione struggled to keep her annoyance in hand. The boys refused to leave ahead of her after Snape's class, despite her having told them she needed to talk to Professor Snape about an assignment. It was a lie, of course, but they didn't need to know that. She didn't want to talk to Snape at all but was hoping to have a word with his Godson. But as the boys lingered, Malfoy shrugged and walked out. Only Nott offered her apologetic eyes.

That more than anything knocked her off kilter. Nott knew. And it terrified her.

Quickly she shoved the rest of her books in her bag and slung it over her shoulder. Professor Snape's only acknowledgment of her lie was a single unamused raised brow. Hermione grimaced and exited and was immediately flanked by Harry and Ron.

"We have Quidditch practice today. The Gryffindor verse Slytherin match is tomorrow and I want to utterly destroy Malfoy. Are you coming, Hermione?" Harry asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "When was the last time I missed one of your matches?"

"I'm not asking about the match tomorrow. I'm asking if you are going to watch our practice today,"

She looked at him unimpressed. When was the last time she just came to watch the team practice? They both knew the answer was just the once, start of term. "I wasn't planning on it,"

"Are you going to stay in the common room?" he continued doggedly. Ron was not really paying attention to them, but she glared at both him and Harry anyway.

"I haven't decided,"

"With both Ron and I at practice, I think you should stay in the tower."

"Why in the world would I do that?"

He lowered his voice. "The way Malfoy has been staring at you, I don't think it is safe,"

"Luckily for me, you are neither my father nor my protector. I will be fine doing what I do." Hermione snorted.

"I would feel better…:

"Look," Hermione cut him off mid-sentence. "I will be careful but Harry, you can't stop me from studying or living my life. You need to trust me. Trust that I can protect myself."

"I know you can protect yourself," he said heatedly. "but those bloody Slytherins are known for their nefarious schemes. I don't want you to be targeted, especially when there is no way that Ron or I could get to you in time." He lowered his voice before continuing on. "I can't lose any more of my family,"

Hermione sighed. Sirius. Of course, his request had a deeper meaning. She slid her arm around his waist and hugged him tightly. "You would have to do something quite horrible to lose me, Harry Potter! We are friends until the very last. Not even a sneaky Slytherin would stop that."

Harry hugged her back fiercely. Ron was looking at them strangely, finally noticing their exchange. She smiled at him and Ron hesitatingly smiled back, looking away uncomfortably.

Suddenly her bag split, and she gasped as her things scattered on the floor. Harry and Ron helped her pick up everything and she shoved it all back into her bag, repaired and reinforced.

"I think you might need a new bag," Ron snarked.

**HGHG**

"I swear to Merlin if she lays her hand on Potter one more fucking time," Draco muttered angrily, tucking his wand away, pulling back from where two hallways merged.

"Good luck with that Mate, those Gryffindors are a handsy lot," Nott said as the two of them watched Granger, Potter, and Weasley scramble for her things. "Isn't your reaction a bit like pulling her hair to get her attention?"

Draco glared at his so-called best friend and Nott held his hands up in surrender.

"I have other things I need more than your running commentary," Draco muttered, walking away from lunch in the Great Hall.

"You would miss it if I stopped," Theo said with a smirk, stopping in the middle of the hall. Draco waved and went on, leaving Nott behind to find his own lunch.

The truth of it was that he  _would_  miss it if Theo stopped. Right now, he was the only person on his side. The only person who knew what Granger meant to him. The only one he could trust to keep his secrets.

Draco made his way up to the seventh floor knowing he would have a solid two hours to work on the cabinet, unwrapping a chocolate frog on the way.

**HGHG**

"Mr. Nott knows," Snape said conversationally as he sat in the chair opposite Dumbledore.

Dumbledore, who was writing a letter, paused and looked up at Snape over his half-moon spectacles. "Which one?"

"The younger,"

Dumbledore visibly perked up. "And?"

"You and Nott could probably form an official fan club now,"

Laughing, Dumbledore set down his quill. "Don't be so sour, Severus. Can't you just feel the excitement of forbidden love flowing in the air?"

"No." Snape deadpanned.

**HGHG**

Hermione leaned against the cold stone of the wall near the Astronomy tower and lightly hit her head against the surface. Malfoy's letter burned a hole in her pocket. Despite nicking the Marauder's Map, she had been unable to locate him. It wasn't a rare phenomenon, but it was conspicuous in its impossibility. Harry poured over this very problem for weeks, muttering unflatteringly to himself. Hermione had refused to listen more than a handful of times, dismissing Harry's alarm and suspicion.

Where could he possibly be that the Marauder's Map didn't pick up on? Was there somewhere in this whole castle that the Marauders didn't carouse?

Then a spark of something from last year took root in her mind. There was once when Harry had started a session of Dumbledore's Army without her and she had grabbed the map as she made her way to the seventh floor. The map was handy to use in the case of being caught by Umbridge but for a moment it had crossed her mind that none of the participants were anywhere on the map. In fact, there was no Room of Requirement on there at all, as if it didn't exist.

Dazed she walked down from the tower following the twists and turns of the castle until she was standing in front of the painting featuring dancing trolls.

What would Malfoy need the room for?

She began walking back and forth muttering, "Show me the room Draco Malfoy is using,"

Back and forth she walked, three times. Nothing. She nodded and a furrow deepened between her brows. She knew from the previous year that she needed to know exactly what the room was being used for. The specifics were what mattered. A half hour passed in the same boring manner when the door appeared before her. For one crazy minute, she thought her muttering of  _'Fucking Draco Malfoy,'_  got results. That was until the man himself walked out; eyes wide at being caught.

"Hermione," he murmured, shocked and chagrined, the door still opened behind him.

She reeled. He really was there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Endnotes:
> 
> Yes, I am aware of the two discrepancies regarding Draco's dark mark. Yes, I did this on purpose. Yes, it will be addressed. See y'all next Thursday.


	5. Regret is Only a Word Until You Feel It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have really enjoyed reading every review!
> 
> Thank you to CJRed for alpha reading this story.
> 
> If you are interested, check me out on Tumblr, Jessiyl, where I post chapter by chapter teasers.
> 
> Updated Every Thursday!

**Chapter Five- Regret is Only a Word Until You Feel it**

Draco rushed to close the door, but Hermione stuck out her hand and stopped him. Clearly, judging by the discomfort on his face, he didn't want her to see where he had been. For the life of her, she couldn't figure out why he was tetchy. It was easily identifiable as the Room of Hidden Things.

With narrowed eyes, Hermione gestured with her wand hand that he should proceed her back into the room. He did, but he didn't like it.

Too damn bad, she thought while clenching her teeth.

"Hello, Granger," Draco said warily.

Her eyebrows rose, unimpressed. "Do you want to tell me what you are up to before this gets unpleasant?"

Mulish was the only way to describe his expression. "Just looking for something."

"Yeah, and I am the bloody giant squid," she mumbled, moving further into the room. Fury kept her focus sharp and protected her from the hurt that this confrontation was bound to bring her. Anger allowed those vulnerable feelings to be shielded behind that constantly strengthening wall.

He snorted but otherwise kept silent. Hermione stared at him, giving him the opportunity to confess. She could feel the hope dying inside of her as the endless moment stretched on. How could she do anything for him if he wouldn't tell her what he was doing? After several minutes of his reticence, she nodded, not in acceptance but in understanding. He had no intention of coming clean.

Out of one of her pockets, she drew out his correspondence, keeping her eyes on his face. His shock was quickly masked until his flawless skin became a blank slate that met her stare for stare.

"Foolishly," Hermione began. "I had thought that leaving this behind in the classroom was your Slytherin way of defecting, of asking me to help you and your family. But that isn't the case, is it?"

Still nothing.

"I nearly didn't read it for privacy sake. However, the idea that you were reaching out was too much for me to ignore. Your father is in Azkaban still. Easy enough to tell by the stamp. What is less discernible is the fact that he is writing to you on behalf of Voldemort,"

Malfoy hissed. "Don't say his name,"

Hermione rolled her eyes. His lack of trust in her hurt; twisted like a buried dagger to the gut. Even knowing that he was being coerced didn't make her feel any better. He asked her to sit idly by while in the safety of his secret-kept house, a house so secret that his parents didn't even know of its existence but wouldn't go himself. No wonder he had asked her to hide away, he was on the front lines on the opposite side of the war, his hand forced because of his love for his mother. If Draco had any sort of feelings for Hermione, he wouldn't want her to go into battle.

Still, he wouldn't reach out, not even after being caught. Was he already so lost to her? "It is a major breach that your father would be getting any news of any kind while incarcerated, and yet he knows the apparently fragile state of Vol-"

Malfoy growled and narrowed his eyes, taking a step in her direction. Less than a foot away, he stopped. He didn't frighten her, but she rolled her eyes and capitulated.

"For Merlin's sake, You-Know-Who then! I can tell that he has given you a task. And I am not going to play coy by suggesting you aren't a smart and capable wizard. If you haven't been able to do whatever it is that you have been tasked with, I am going to assume it is something nigh on impossible. So here it is, Malfoy, even though you are being coerced, there are ways and means to handle this. You don't have to do whatever it is he has asked you to do." Reaching out her hand, she let the flat of her palm rest over his heart. Even now, she couldn't help the thread of hope that bled from her gaze.

He snorted again but looked away this time, as if unable to meet her eyes and let her hand rest against his body. Almost like he couldn't bear the separation either. Looking poised, as if to talk, he said, "Granger…" before he trailed off and silence again reigned.

"What?" she said softly, imploring him to talk, to say anything that would make sense. Maybe there was something she could do to help but not unless he opened his mouth. They both knew that she couldn't allow the continuance of the mission. Not if it would be a blow to her side. He couldn't afford to let her interfere. She couldn't afford to allow him to complete. They were in a stalemate. Deadlocked. Nothing either of them could say would save either of them.

Hermione knew that if he just said the word, she would speak to Dumbledore on his behalf and get both him and his mother out. Lucius was another kettle of fish but perhaps he could also be spared. After all, she was connected to the highest echelons of magical prowess that the Order had to offer. Headmaster Dumbledore would provide the means if Draco would just lay his trust at her feet.

He shook his head. Whatever he wanted to say was suppressed.

"You never come to dinner anymore." She said. The change of topic either confused him or he pretended that he was, and he looked back at her with his blank stare. "Is this where you go? The Room of Hidden Things?"

He refused to answer even that, even when caught red-handed. She was frustrated.

"Fine," She turned on the balls of her feet and headed into the winding, complicated maze.

"Where are you going?" His voice rose an octave, panicked perhaps.

"Oh ho! Talking to me now, are we?!" she said angrily. She twirled her wand and watched as a thin glittery trail materialized in the air at waist height. Most of the paths were clear but several paths showed heavy use. One, in particular, was inundated with the herpes of the art world. "Must be down here then,"

"Granger," He growled, fairly running to catch her now that she seemed to know what she was looking for.

Hermione turned around and crossed her arms, walking backward. "No! I gave you a chance to explain. You blew me off!"

"You don't understand!" He yelled in a strangled sort of voice. Draco's mask dropped allowing her to see that he looked absolutely wild, unhinged, and devastated.

She stopped suddenly and shoved her wand tip into his chest. "You are right! Because you won't bloody talk!"

"How could I possibly do that! You are not an idiot! You have a very good idea of what I stand to lose," Draco said through clenched teeth, his hands balled into tight fists at his side.

She nodded sharply again and continued down the row. Stopping where the glitter congealed at its thickest, right in front of the cabinet, not even realizing yet the significance of what she was looking at. He reached out and grabbed her and pulled her back into his body, pinning her there with his arms - one wound just above her breasts and the other was an iron band around her hips.

Hermione turned her head away, unwilling to admit that his closeness affected her, threatened to weaken her resolve. Her eye caught and held a familiar object and quicker than lightning, her mind made the connection. A vanishing cabinet. Just like the one in Borgin and Burkes when Harry, Ron, and Hermione had followed the sketchy Draco Malfoy to Knockturn Alley while shopping for their yearly Hogwarts supplies.

"Leave it alone, Hermione" He growled into her ear.

"If he wants you to do something, I can't let it succeed, and you know why," She murmured, still staring at the cabinet that she knew to be broken. Studying it, she could see the tell-tale marks of damage. How close was he to fixing it? Who would be coming through? And most importantly, why? Her blood ran cold. She only needed one guess.

"Do you want to know how he will kill me?" He whispered distractingly, sending tendrils of small curls fluttering on her neck causing her to shiver. "First  _He_  will kill my mother. For her service to the cause, she will get an honorable death by the killing curse. Then my father. I don't think he would be afforded the same honor, after all, this mission…  _my_  mission is his current punishment. I don't think my father will die pain-free. And me? I will be tortured. Maybe some Crucio's, maybe some degrading acts via Imperio. Then he will offer his faithful the opportunity to win the right to give me my punishment. Some want to bring me as close to death as possible, some want to cut me open and watch as my blood stained the carpet in my own home, some want to do other, unspeakable things. I've heard it all already. My fellow brothers-in-arms have grand plans for my failure. And on the off chance that he doesn't want to give me away, he might take the time to pick my mind apart piece by piece. My memories will become vulnerable and by extension, you, the only bright spot left in my life, will be exposed. So, forgive me if I don't want to share my secrets, braid our hair, and go skipping into the sunset."

"I can't walk away from this and pretend I don't know," she said. Something large took up residence in her throat and no matter how she swallowed, it wouldn't disappear. This was the turning point. Something was going to happen and one of them or both were going to be hurt.

"I know and I have no fucking clue what to do about that,"

He brought the hand that was holding her shoulders up to her face, caressing the soft delicate skin near her mouth.

"Are you going to take my memories?" she whispered. That would make the most sense if he had the knowledge and she assumed he didn't want to actually hurt her, physically, at least.

"I should," he admitted. Hermione knew then that he knew enough to cast an obliviate and trembled. To never remember what they had together…

"But you're not?" She asked hopefully.

"It would make my life easier to erase this entire year of memories that we have shared. Safer too."

"Why haven't you?" She asked flatly. Hope at this point was a suffocating ember and it was dying out quicker by the second.

**HGHG**

Draco watched his fingers as they caressed her face. Why? She didn't know why? Could she not feel the raging hard-on that he had for her that was very nearly pressed into her lower back? Did she not know that it is her and only her that had captured his heart? He wanted to laugh hysterically. He was in so deeply; he couldn't even remember what it was like before she took him over.

"I don't think you will," she lifted her chin defiantly. Draco dropped his hand from her face back to her arms, forcing her body closer, closer. He clenched his eyes tightly shut, bittersweet enjoyment of her softly curving body as it fitted perfectly against his. Her rounded bum nestled into his groin and he could rest his chin on the top of her curly head if he had a mind to. Draco drew in a shaky breath and tried to force the feelings away that rose sharp and needy inside of him. He had more important things to consider than how wonderful it would feel to rock his hips into her bum.

His mind was running a mile a minute. He knew she would never agree to keep quiet and telling her anything was out of the question. She already knew way too much, probably already sussed out the rest, just standing there in front of the cabinet that had become his life. And the truth was he couldn't bear to completely erase what they had together. Every touch, every kiss meant something to him and to wipe it all away… it was cruel. He hoped that if he did die, someday she would remember him. Remember them. And maybe, just maybe, she could forgive him then. His insides twisted, recognizing that she couldn't keep the memories either. It meant no more rendezvous in the Charms corridor. No more heated looks. He would have to quit her, cold turkey.

He wasn't sure he was strong enough, but he had an idea of how he could compromise between the two options. The probability she would kill him later when the memories returned though…

Draco turned her around and grabbed her face, taking ownership over her lips as if he had every right. He felt like a starving man facing a lifetime of famine. The taste of her was honey, lavender, and arousal. Ambrosia. His sweet Ambrosia. Even now as she attempted to yell at him, it felt like a deathless death when she gave in and melted into him, body curving softly under his hard unyielding one. Pliant where his held firm.

"Malfoy," she murmured against him, caution and disapproval dripping from her honeyed lips.

He moaned, diving back in. If he let her say a word, his will would crumble, and he would deliver her his heart on a platter. Burying his fingers in her wild curls, he held her head still as he took control of her mouth, caressing the nibbled flesh, prodding her to open for him. One moment he was passion and need, the next, gentle and loving. Breathlessness was the only way he could describe the experience. Blood pumped through his body, heightening his arousal and excitement. She wasn't fighting him, was still responsive to his ministrations, but almost reluctantly as if she knew this was his goodbye.

All of a sudden, he tore his mouth from hers, watching as her breasts heaved in an attempt to fill her lungs adequately enough with air. The desire to draw her in again, strip her robe off of her, and bend her passion to his will, was just about all-consuming. He wanted nothing more than to sink into her honey and never come out.

They looked at each other for a moment and he raised his wand faster than she had for the first time ever.

" _Servare quod amature_ *" he murmured; overwhelming agony pulsed in his brain.  _No, no, no,_ he internally chanted. Even as he locked every single one of her memories- tenderness, touch, and thought- behind a wall so strong, not even the most talented master would be able to unlock it. Her eyes slid out of focus and her mouth went slack.

Horror and regret devoured him, eating his soul alive as he watched her eyes become dazed, unseeing.

Draco wanted to pull her in, apologize, and give it all back. But he couldn't. Couldn't. Sobs tore from his throat and he grabbed the nearest object and threw it into a haphazard pile the next aisle over as hard as he could, watching as the entire stack shuddered and imploded in on itself. Glass broke and metal shrieked as he took out his agony on the objects around him. He destroyed everything within his reach, only keeping enough sense to protect her. Nothing other than Hermione and the cabinet were spared. Granger would be vulnerable as her memories and thoughts filtered into the core of her mind. She wouldn't come to until everything from this year was locked away. She might have been sleeping while standing, except he couldn't delude himself. Even though he desperately wanted to. Until then, he fell apart.

He laughed as if possessed as the minutes dragged on. The longer it took for her to come back to the world, the more memories of him that needed to be repressed. What a fucking irony that her thoughts have been consumed with him and the only reason he knew was because he was taking it all away. There is nothing he wouldn't have given a week ago to understand the depths of her feelings for him. Now, it was torture. A cruel twist of fate.

The Dark Lord held him like a puppet, each string that controlled him was stronger than iron, stronger than steel, stronger than any magic. Draco's love for his mother, for his father, for his own damn life strengthening them until they were as unbreakable as a Gordian knot. He felt them winding around him even now. Tighter and tighter they coiled.

The Dark Lord didn't have to whip him ever again. Draco took a much worse punishment onto himself. Knowing that even if she did get everything back, she would most likely never forgive him. He would want her, love her, until the day he died. She, on the other hand, might live the whole of her life not realizing what he was to her. That alone licked at the shredded edges of his soul.

Hermione began blinking, brows meeting in confusion and he knew that there was no more time. She couldn't awaken there in the Room of Requirement, especially with him. That would defeat the purpose. Gently, he took her by the hand and led her out of the room, disillusioning them both before opening the door. These were his last moments alone with her. The last few seconds of holding her hand. Of smelling her heady lavender scent, floating from where he cradled her body in his protective arms.

It wasn't yet curfew, so he took her to the entrance of the library and peeked inside. The She-Weasel sat nearby, stirring as if getting ready to pack up. Malfoy pulled Hermione into the alcove just outside and dropped his spell.

" _Lumos_ ," he murmured, checking the reaction of her pupils as if she were in danger of a concussion. He nodded, satisfied, before whispering, " _Nox_ ,"

Unable to help himself, he dropped a single kiss onto her temple and pulled her into his arms, squeezing her as if he never was going to let her go before pushing her out of the alcove. Quickly, he raised a notice-me-not and watched her from the darkness as the She-Weasel walked out of the library.

"Hermione?" she asked, surprised.

"Ginny?" Granger was disoriented.

"Are you okay? Is something wrong?" The redhead took Granger's shoulders and peered into her eyes, concerned. Something bitter twisted in his stomach.

"I'm…" she shook her head and licked her lips. "Yeah,"

"Want to walk back with me to Gryffindor? Or would you rather go see Madame Pomfrey?"

"I just want to go to bed, I think," Granger said in a small voice. Weasley wrapped her arm protectively around Granger's shoulders and looked around suspiciously, wand clenched in her free hand.

Smart girl.

Draco stayed in the alcove until he couldn't hear their receding footsteps any longer. Closing his eyes, he rhythmically hit the back of his head against the stone wall. Because feeling pain was better than feeling nothing at all.*

**HGHG**

Ginny had brought Hermione back to the Common Room and the moment she crossed the threshold she went straight to bed, drained. It wasn't until the darkest part of morning threatened to give way to the golden rays of sunrise that Hermione began to wake.

The last thing she could remember was the warm contented feeling that someone was with her, protecting her, loving her. He was a shadow. Every time she turned to finally glimpse that which lived in the corner of her eye, it would flutter away as if he never was. Frustration was her constant companion and she couldn't shake the feeling that she was forgetting something monumentally important. But as dawn approached, the unfulfilled longing grew. Her dreams bled away into uneasy forgetfulness.

"Morning," Lavender smiled, stretching with her arms over her head. "I would ask if you were excited about the match today, but well, you know, Quidditch,"

"Of course, I am excited," Hermione retorted. "Ron and Harry will both be playing."

Lavender smiled, eyes glittering at the unnecessary reminder. Hermione scrunched her nose, finally connecting the dots. Lavender totally had a thing for one of her friends.

"Better get ready," Lavender said, throwing off her blankets and nearly sprinting for the shower. Hermione rolled her eyes and followed at a more reasonable pace. The second shower for all of its fiddly temperature was her favorite. The water pressure pounded into her muscles better than any masseuse.

Dressing from head to toe in gold and red, Hermione let her scarf hang long around her neck, her warm winter coat slung over her arm. After double-checking that she had everything, she made her way down to the common room. Ginny flashed her a concerned but relieved smile before bolting out the portrait, presumably heading to breakfast. Ron and Harry were waiting for her, chatting next to the fire. Well, Harry was chatting. Ron looked green – puce almost - and she wondered if he would puke right then and there.

"Hey Hermione," Harry said cheerfully. Ron nodded in her direction with eyes glazed with fear.

"Morning!" she said, smiling. She still felt off-kilter from her dreams; searching, hunting for…something.

The Great Hall was filled to the brim when they walked in. Each house cheering boisterously for the house team they favored, Slytherin or Gryffindor. Slytherins booed them loudly, hissing as they passed.

"I can't wait to trounce Malfoy's face," Harry said as he looked around the Hall searching for Malfoy. Hermione rolled her eyes and helped herself to a generous breakfast. For some reason, she felt starved. Ron, on the other hand, could barely choke down the toast Harry had thrust into his hands.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of gold and her eyes widened. Did Harry just dose Ron with Felix Felicis? For a match?! He was  _cheating_?!

"There you go, Ron. Drink up," Harry said handing Ron a glass of Pumpkin juice, watching Hermione out of the corner of his eyes.

"Harry James Potter!" she screeched and if she didn't know better, she would have thought she saw a smirk cross his face.

"What?" he said innocently, stowing the potion back inside his robes.

"Don't you what me! Ron don't drink that!" Her voice was shrill, unamused, and shocked.

"I don't know what you are talking about. Leave it alone, Hermione," Harry said seriously. For a moment she was knocked out of her rage. A tiny flutter of… something… niggled her. Had someone else said that to her? She shook her head. Impossible.

Ron looked between them and defiantly guzzled the pumpkin juice. Hermione was shocked. She had not thought her friends would stoop so low.

"Excellent," said Harry smiling, overly cheerful, probably for Ron's sake. Hermione frowned. Harry ignored her, a tiny smile on his lips.

"Conditions look ideal," Ginny said. "And guess what? Slytherin is playing Harper instead of Malfoy. Apparently, the git is sick,"

"What?" yelled Harry. All hopes for beating Malfoy into the dust - dashed. He looked positively crestfallen. Then his expression changed into something thoughtful, calculating.

As if one, a flood of students rose from breakfast and walked down to the pitch, the crescendo rising as excitement and adrenaline rushed through the crowd.

"Time to go," Harry said, and Gryffindor team rose as one and followed the masses. Hermione pursed her lips and followed, clearly unhappy.

**HGHG**

Draco stood in one of the alcoves off of the main hall and watched Granger as she followed her housemates down to the pitch. She kept throwing outraged looks at Potter. Nothing warmed his heart more than that and one side of his mouth pulled up into a mockery of a smile. Whatever Potter had done, he definitely deserved her ire. And would have enjoyed her anger at Potter more, had it been possible to turn back time. Taking them back to when she knew and wanted Draco. The memory of her as she used her knee to part his legs so that she could step between them and run her tongue on his sensitive neck took over and he shuddered. Vomit crawled up his throat as he remembered what he had done to her, the guilt building until he knew he would be unable to even look in the mirror.

So, this is what he was capable of doing to the woman he loved. He never felt so dirty.

All too soon, Granger was swallowed in a crush of gold and red and he meandered back up the stairs for another stint in the Room of Requirement.

As he sat on the stone floor of the cavernous room with his back against a pile of destroyed furniture, he faced the cabinet, his robes tossed away forgotten. A book laid open on the floor next to him, his wand in his hand. He kept rotating his wand clockwise, muttering the incantation he was learning, hopeful for the first time in weeks that he might make progress. Threading his long fingers between the pages, he flipped back and forth. After he thought he had the hang of it, Draco stood.

Tugging down his shirt, he took a nice deep breath, lifted his wand, pointed it straight at the cabinet, and executed the wand movements as he spoke his spells.  _"Renovo. Necto."*_

There was a grating noise, the sound of heavy wood moving against itself. Then a click. Draco gulped and with shaking hands opened the wooden doors. It was immediately apparent that much of the physical damage was repaired. He let out a breath in a puff, relief making him smile. Now, he had to fix the magic. It was bittersweet, having come at such a high cost.

**HGHG**

Hermione sat in an abandoned stairwell, flicking her wand every few seconds, conjuring more and more tiny yellow canaries. Intermittent tears slid down her cheeks. That day couldn't have gone worse if Voldemort himself walked into the school, she thought facetiously.

Using Felix Felicis was forbidden in sports, testing, and other such things. How was she to know that Harry just wanted it to appear that way, getting caught by her, so Ron would get the confidence boost he needed. No matter that Harry threw her completely under the bus, counting on her moral repugnance to breaking such laws to push Ron into downing the juice.

She rubbed her face on the shoulder of her robes, wiping away the salty evidence. Now Ron wasn't speaking to her. If he even came up for air to notice she wasn't there, she would be surprised. When she realized Lavender had a crush on one of her mates, she never imagined the day would end like this. Lavender had noticed her surprise as Hermione walked in the portrait hole, raised her brow in a mocking salute, and dove back in to claim her best friend's lips. As if it were a competition.

Hermione groaned in disgust. Her problem wasn't who was snogging Ron. Her problem was that he didn't seem to care how deeply he hurt her. As if their friendship was a mere trifle for him. As if they hadn't spent years battling together, protecting each other, covering for each other. As if all of that danger and bonding and loyalty meant nothing. Would she ever be able to do enough to be considered important? Her best friend thought she was expendable.

"Hermione?" Harry asked from behind her.

"Hello Harry," She said, a lump in her throat forced her to swallow.

"You okay?" he moved further onto the landing, nearly tripping over his own two feet, before sitting on the stair next to her.

"Yeah. I just… Ron makes me so…"

Speak of the devil, Hermione thought grumpily as Ron pulled Lavender into the stairwell, attached by the lips. She rolled her eyes and avoided Harry's concerned ones.

Ron froze as he noticed first Harry then Hermione. A pregnant silence grew between them, broken only by Lavender's giggles as she tugged Ron's hand. Harry's disapproval sat uncomfortably in the silence; his ire directed towards Ron with a slightly smaller guilt-ridden expression aimed at her. But she hardened against it. Harry had hurt her too.

The next few minutes were a blur, but she remembered siccing her canaries at Ron and his big fat insensitive head and though she never mentioned it out loud, she swore up, down, and sideways she heard a husky voice murmur, 'that's my girl,'

**HGHG**

Theo cornered him in the dorms, eyes tight with worry. "What the fuck happened?"

"What do you mean?" Draco asked tiredly. He had just watched his girl get hurt by the fuckers she called friends and then take her revenge. If he didn't know he deserved to be at the receiving end of her brutal canaries, he would have taken a greater joy in watching them attack the Weasel. Why she didn't also curse Potter, he couldn't say. But he knew that those two buffoons had done something to make her cry. His stomach twisted at the sight of twin tear tracks down her cheeks.

"Two days ago you were all, Granger's the one. And now? Now, you are acting as if someone died and she isn't acting strange at all."

"So?" Draco pulled off one boot, then the other, letting them fall to the floor with a muffled thunk before he pushed the pair under his bed.

"She has been acting strange all year. Her eyes used to be glued to you. It was as if this year didn't even happen!" Theo's hands were flying as they did when he was overly distressed.

Draco stared at him pointedly.

"Fuuuck," Theo groaned, running his fingers through his brown hair. Pity was something that Draco neither wanted nor needed. He looked away to avoid it.

Draco sat on the edge of the bed and stripped off his shirt.

"Did you obliviate her memory?" Theo asked gently to Draco's bared back.

Draco shook his head and pulled his belt out of the loops of his trousers, placed it in his top drawer, and let his trousers drop to the floor before tossing them lazily into the basket at the bottom of his bed. Standing in his smalls, he pulled out a pair of soft grey sleeping pants. "Preserved them in her core of memories."

Theo closed his eyes. "Why now?"

"She stumbled upon my task from the Dark Lord."

A sharp whistle sounded through Theo's teeth as he sucked in the air while clenching them. Draco pulled on a thin green t-shirt with the Slytherin crest on the chest. Flopping on his bed, he buried his face in the downy softness of his pillow, imagining if only for a minute that it was Hermione he was holding. Wishing he could still meet her in abandoned classroom three and press his face in the cradle of her neck.

Theo must have known how tore up Draco was because he left him alone after that. Draco was thankful. He intended on dreaming of her and in the morning, he would write a missive home, detailing his small success.

That night, his dreams swirled around Hermione Granger, each scene more distressing than the last. He woke himself up in the night sobbing. He hadn't a nightmare, far from it. He dreamed of marrying her and of having their children run around the Manor happily, dispelling every ounce of darkness that surrounded his life. He wanted that to happen so fucking bad, he could barely contain his despair upon waking to his cold reality. A reality without her.

**HGHG**

"What happened, Severus?" Dumbledore asked as he met the dour professor at the gates of the school. Snape was near to collapsing, breathing harshly, and clutching his chest. He had just returned from a summons and something was terribly wrong. Dumbledore wrapped the younger man's arm around his shoulder and supported him with his own strength.

"He is getting impatient with Draco, with me, with the unsatisfactory information I have been giving him," Snape said through bloodless lips. "Draco will know his displeasure soon enough."

Dumbledore closed his eyes, painful remorse making his face fall. "Let's go to my office. Poppy has already given me healing potions. But if you think you need to go to the Hospital Wing, I will take you to Poppy first,"

"No," Snape growled.

Together they made their way through the castle, nodding at the professors that were on nighttime patrol. Once they entered into the Headmaster's domain, the portraits became loud, throwing out suggestions of the best way to heal the tortured professor.

"Hush," Dumbledore told them sternly, noticing a face he had only seen once or twice in his whole tenure. Victus Malfoy, a Headmaster from five hundred years ago, rarely graced his Hogwarts portrait but kept himself mostly to Malfoy Manor. If it wasn't for the impressive magic that made sure that all Headmasters do their duty to the current sitting Headmaster and keep the secrets of the office, he might have wondered if the Malfoy ancestor was passing information. He reinforced the magic himself the moment Severus Snape's mark had begun to darken and was secure that Victus Malfoy was not a threat.

Snape popped the cork on the first vial and downed it, throwing the entirety to the back of his throat as if he was pounding back several fingers of whiskey. Visibly he perked up after the third and collapsed back in his chair, covering his face with a still shaking hand, aftereffects of multiple  _Cruciatus_ '. Dumbledore sat next to him instead of behind his desk as he usually would, watching Snape for any signs of further distress. His concern was noted and discarded by the surly professor. Though they  _were_  friends, bonded in their remorse over their boyhood actions that led to the deaths of people that they loved deeply.

"He was not amused by the necklace incident and accused me of wanting the boy to fail by not extending my hand out to help him. Even if he does think Draco will fail, he wants him to succeed. He feels that I could give the boy a helping hand and explain it all away because of my status as his teacher."

"That ties in nicely to what we want," Dumbledore said, shaking his sleeve over his ruined hand self-consciously. The motion drew Snape's eyes, and he couldn't tear free of it. That hand was a physical reminder of the promise that Albus Dumbledore had extracted from him months ago.

"He still doesn't know of your condition, even though you haven't glamoured it or hidden it or anything. None of the students have mentioned it in their letters home,"

"Of course they have, but those tidbits of information have been removed,"

"You are searching all the mail again?" Snape asked, a frown deepening the furrows on his brow.

"There is a bit of magic in the wards that I have included this year. I think it will help you immensely when you take over as Headmaster. It automatically erases any specific information about the current Headmaster."

"I despise when you speak of that as if it is some sort of award or some prize to be won. Your death will sit heavy in my hands and I will drown under all of the blood I have let!"

Dumbledore rested his good hand on Snape's shoulder and the silence was stifling. Not one portrait moved, for fear of sullying the depth of emotion swirling in the room.

"You have time yet. I haven't passed everything to Harry that he needs. There is time,"

"Not enough. Never enough for this."

"Perhaps," Dumbledore said sadly.

"Headmaster," Interrupted Phineas Nigellius Black from his portrait on the wall.

"Yes?"

"The Malfoy boy has modified the memories of the Granger girl,"

Snape inhaled sharply and flicked his black gaze up in confusion. Dumbledore's eyes filled but held the tears from falling.

"Why?" Snape asked. It was clear that though he didn't appear to be a fan of the two, he wasn't happy at the news.

"From what I could gather, she found out what he was up to for Voldemort."

"Did he obliviate her or repress the memories?" Dumbledore asked again just to clarify what kind of mind modification had been used before leaning forward, fevered.

"Repression, Headmaster,"

"Then this isn't over yet," the older man said with conviction, relieved. "I bet she will remember and forgive him sooner rather than later."

Phineas snorted. "I bet against. She would be completely stupid to forgive the brat after that."

"And what would you wager?" Dumbledore asked.

"The loser must croon with the fat lady for an entire Christmas Holiday."

"You're on," Dumbledore said, blinking away the wetness.

Snape closed his eyes and breathed in and out slowly. Hermione Granger had accomplished something that he had been trying to do for months. How could she, a mere slip of a girl, find out what Draco was doing for the Dark Lord so quickly?

"Severus?"

"Yes?" He blinked open one tired eye.

"If Draco Malfoy ever shows signs of wanting to defect or if he ever wants to help us win the war and I am dead, I want you to help him, Severus. Allow him to receive information from the portraits. To talk to me privately without you. Hide him, if that is what he wants. If there ever comes a day that he shows us that his loyalty is to Hermione Granger, do not hesitate. Love is more powerful a motivator than even fear." Dumbledore said fervently.

"As we both well know," Snape agreed, slinging his body from his repose to stand tall, despite the tremors wracking his body. Without a backward glance, he walked out of the office and made his way to his rooms in the dungeons, despite his classroom and office having been moved to the Defense corridor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Endnotes:
> 
> 1\. Servare quod amatur- Preserve that which is loved.
> 
> 2\. "Because feeling pain was better than feeling nothing at all," was a line borrowed from the song 'Pain' by Three Days Grace
> 
> 3\. Renovo- to refurbish
> 
> 4\. Necto- to join, amalgamate, interlace, weave.


	6. Slughorn's Christmas Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to CJRed who alpha read this story.
> 
> Updated every Thursday!

**Chapter Six- Slughorn's Christmas Party**

Hogwarts was wrapped in the excitement of the Christmas holidays. Enormous evergreens stood sentinel against the walls, heavily decorated with an assortment of bobbles, and fairies took up temporary residence among the branches, happily twinkling among the frost tipped boughs. Suits of armor were charmed to sing carols to all passerby, and manipulated by the older troublemakers into singing raunchier choruses as the day progressed. Students laughed louder and were overall less productive, but most of the professors were tolerant, the infectious spirit even pervading the professor's lounge.

As the students prepared to leave for the holidays, the older ones prepared for a party. Slughorn had gone over the top, or so it was said in the rumor mill. Anyone who was one of the coveted members was hounded with thinly veiled attempts to wrangle an invitation by everyone else.

Hermione was sitting in her last double Herbology period until the new year and was probably the only person still paying attention to Professor Sprout. Harry sat next to her with Ron on his other side. Ron was still not on speaking terms with Hermione and it was mutual, both stubborn and ornery, making their molehill of a fight into Everest.

Towards the end of the period, Harry elbowed Hermione and leaned in, "McLaggen has been staring and… is there something wrong with his eye?"

Hermione snorted behind her hand. "I think he is trying to wink,"

"At you, me, or Ron?" Harry asked confused, wondering if the guy was still trying to talk his way onto the Quidditch team.

"Probably you," Hermione said biting her lips in the effort of not laughing out loud. Though she told Harry she thought McLaggen was looking at him, she was fairly certain that he was staring and winking at her. After all, he had been doing the same for the last two days and several times when neither of the boys was even around.

Harry winced, uncomfortable, and breathed a sigh of relief when Professor Sprout dismissed them early. Stopping only to scorgify her dragon-hide gloves, she belted out of there like a bat out of hell. Damned if she was going to make the walk up to the castle enduring Ron's passive-aggressive digs. But they were out the door before her gloves were even in her bag, Harry's apologetic gaze looking back over his shoulder. She left as soon as she could, power walking up the slope to the doors.

"Wait, Granger," Cormac McLaggen caught up with her, setting one of his hands on her arm to stop her.

She paused with a frown at that hand. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," he said sheepishly, letting go of her arm and raising his hand to scratch the back of his neck, and looking down at his feet. But as he continued talking, he raised his eyes to meet hers, confident. "I've been trying to ask you if you have a date to Slughorn's party."

For all her intelligence, she was somewhat blindsided. Looking back through the year she struggled to come up with a precedent that would explain what he was saying. Only the Quidditch tryouts brought up any clue. Unless one counted the last few days of winking and smiling at her. That must have been food poisoning, Hermione reasoned at the time, attributing it to anything other than genuine interest.

"You have?" she asked blankly.

He took hold of one of her hands and took a step closer, rubbing the back before she pulled the appendage out of his grip. Her stomach swirled, and not in a good way. He lowered his voice and gave her a lopsided smile. "Would you go with me?"

Hermione swallowed harshly, coughing as the spit went down the wrong passageway. He waited, sure of her answer. But she was struggling to come up with a proper response, only thinking that going with him would greatly annoy Ron, McLaggen being next in line for the Keeper position. Vindictive fury rose in her breast. Ron wanted to cast away their friendship? Fine. She would do whatever she wanted.

Setting her jaw, she made her decision. "Yeah, alright,"

McLaggen whooped loudly, so loudly that Hermione had to cover her ears. Even she couldn't help smiling at his exuberance. Despite the misgivings swirling in her stomach, Hermione laughed, caught up in the moment. And was completely unprepared for his swooping kiss. It only lasted a second or so before he hissed, bending down and clutching the back of his calf. Rubbing it, he smiled at Hermione.

"I will meet you in the common room then, Friday,"

"Sure," she said. He turned away and limped back up to the castle. He stopped once when he realized she wasn't following and looked back. Hermione turned away and began the trek to Hagrid's hut instead. McLaggen shrugged and continued his lonely slog with a smile on his face.

Hermione continued on, raising her cloak against the wind. Once, she thought she heard footsteps behind her and twirled around, wand up and ready for an attacker. But there was no one there, not even another set of footprints in the snow. Although, the wind would have made that difficult to prove, having been blowing for the better part of her walk.

Finally, she caught sight of the hut and sighed in relief, hurrying to the front door. Despite not seeing anyone, she truly felt as if she was being followed.

**HGHG**

Draco was seeing red. He had hightailed it out of the castle after his last class, hoping for some air and winter sunshine before potions and spending the rest of the day in the Room of Hidden Things when he saw it. Cormac McLaggen had his hand on Granger, smiling down at her as if he had had any right. Then the fool was yelling happily and kissing those sweet smiling lips.

Draco clenched his teeth together and without fully realizing it, began to grind. The second that bastard's lips touched Granger, he let out an accidental stinging jinx powerful enough to cover the distance between him and them, landing on the back of McLaggen's leg. It wasn't enough to assuage his rage, but he couldn't do more. Not in front of her. Casting a strong notice-me-not, he stood there trembling with fury, waiting for the fool to leave.

For weeks he had been telling himself not to care what she did or who she did it with but even Theo looked skeptical when he said it. And for the life of him, he didn't know why he didn't turn back around and go into the castle after McLaggen when the annoying Gryffindor walked back inside. If he had to guess, it was because Draco had convinced himself that she needed him to watch out for her. There was quite a bit of denial in Draco's brain.

Not that any of that mattered. He kept her in sight until she pulled Hagrid's door open then turned around and headed back towards the castle. Whatever peace he had hoped to gain from the frigid air before sequestering himself in the Room of Hidden Things was gone. Draco knew that the kiss he had been witness to, would replay on a never-ending loop inside his brain.

As he stood in front of the cabinet, he sought to push the thoughts to the back of his mind, slamming them behind the strongest Occlumency shields that he could manage. He once told himself he couldn't watch her with another man, a bitter reminder that she was out of his reach, out of his life, out of his arms.

Sighing, he pulled out another obscure book about magical furniture that had been sent to him from Flourish and Blotts. It was the newest edition of Phil Camburt's  _The Independent Witches Guide to Modern Accoutrements._

Not a single bit of progress was made that night and he left the room more panicked and desperate than usual. Exacerbated no doubt by Hermione Granger's seemingly willing lips pressed seductively against another man's mouth; a mouth that did not belong to him.

Wednesday turned into Thursday and Thursday into Friday as if the ticking of the clock didn't measure his remaining breaths. But Friday morning dawned brightly nevertheless, with the sunshine glittering against the white of undisturbed snow that blanketed the grounds. Draco was wrapped in his warmest cloak, standing in front of one of the many windows to the grounds, clutching a Galleon that had been repeatedly heated and cooled for the last hour and a half.

Hopefully, this time his plan would work, and he would be able to stop working on the cabinet. At the same time, he was counting on interference. Without Dumbledore, how would he find himself out of the mess he was embroiled in?

"Draco!" Theo said, smacking him lightly on the shoulder, a huge fake smile on his lips.

"Theo," Draco mumbled irritably, stowing the Galleon in his pocket. He had finished instructing Rosmerta anyway. There was no need to wait any longer.

"You okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Today is Sluggy's party,"

"And?"

"I heard she is going with McLaggen,"

"Uh-huh,"

"What are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Yes, Theo, nothing. Believe it or not."

"So, you are going to let her go with that prick?"

Draco exhaled sharply, bitter and angry. "Yes. She can do whatever the fuck she wants."

"Mate…"

"Do you have anything else to say that doesn't involve her?"

"Draco,"

"Just stop,"

"Draco!" Theo said briskly, frowning. "That arsehole has not shut up since Tuesday about what he wants to do with her. He plans to be with her!"

"She is a big girl," He said it more out of stubbornness than anything else. Already he could feel the rage building, covering his eyes in a veil of red. He may be blasé in front of Theo but there was no way he would let anything happen to her.

Theo pressed his lips together, obviously not pleased. "You will regret it if he does,"

"Fuck off, Theo,"

"Fine. But you know Draco, if you don't step in soon, you will lose any chance you might have with her." Theo stomped off, more than done with his best friend's behavior.

Draco snorted humorlessly. As if he had a chance anyway.

**HGHG**

Hermione sat on the edge of her bed feeling as if she was missing something. She couldn't put her finger on it, but it almost felt like going with McLaggen was some kind of betrayal, as if she ought not to go with him.

In fact, the closer that the time came to meet him in the Common Room, the more uneasy she felt. Hermione didn't like feeling as if she was doing the wrong thing and tried to shuffle through her memories to figure out exactly why she was feeling those overwhelming emotions.

Ron still wasn't speaking to her and no invitation from the Burrow had been forthcoming that year for Christmas hols, despite Harry's invitation having been extended ages ago. Tears pooled in her eyes, feeling all for the world alone and left out. Even worse was the knowledge of what sat innocently in her trunk, awaiting her decision.

At the beginning of the month, Headmaster Dumbledore had invited her to his office. She had sat in the chair in front of his desk nervously as he handed over a thick manila envelope, the names Monica and Wendall Wilkins written in neat letters on the front.

"What's this?" she asked curiously, trying not to stare at the ruined hand that he tried to hide in the sleeve of his robe.

"This is the best way to protect your parents. I have gotten intelligence that your parents will be hunted soon and that Voldemort will reward handsomely for their deaths."

Hermione looked terrified and her hands shook as she opened the envelope pulling out passports, drivers licenses, property in Australia- ownership papers that included a house and optometry. It included everything they could possibly need and more, even going so far as to include a dog and all of his vet records. Not one document showed their real names or anything that would link them to Richard and Eliza Granger, Hermione's parents. There were no papers for her, she noticed, no way to stay with her family. Not that she would have. As long as Harry needed her, she would be with him. But the option would have been nice.

"I don't think my parents will go,"

"You must make them see that they can't stay. Would you like me to come with you?"

"What if they still say no?"

"What would you be willing to give up to make sure that they live through this war?" he asked kindly. "I will go with whatever you want."

"What are my options?"

"Well, maybe they will readily agree. Then we can send them as soon as possible and you will be able to go get them after the war."

"And if that doesn't work?"

"If they don't go willingly you have two options. You could accept their decision to stay despite the risk to our cause and your life and by extension Harry's. Or we can Obliviate them."

"Obliviate them? Obliviate what exactly? Me?"

"Yes," he said calmly but not unfeelingly. His characteristic twinkle was gone, a dull sheen of regret coloring them instead.

Hermione looked the same as she felt- sick. "How could I do that?"

"As I said, I am at your service. If you want my help, I wouldn't hesitate."

"Thank you," she said in a small voice. "but if it truly comes to that, I need to be the one to do it myself."

He leaned forward, sadness transforming his face. "You are not alone in this,"

"I'm so selfish. I want to wait until the very last moment,"

"I understand, but know that the longer you wait, the more time your enemies have to destroy any chance of their keeping their lives."

"I love them," tears slid down her face and her chin trembled.

"Of course you love them, that doesn't mean you can't be strong enough to do what you need to do. How about this… When you choose your path and you need me, let me know. I will assist you in any way possible,"

"Thank you, Sir,"

He nodded and Hermione put all the documents he prepared for her parents back in the envelope and tucked it under her arm, wiping away the tears that just wouldn't stop, on the shoulder of her robes.

"And Miss Granger?"

"Yeah?" she asked in a small voice.

"I wish that I had a better way to protect your parents and the parents of every student here. I deeply regret the losses we have sustained thus far,"

Hermione swallowed and nodded, walking from the room.

"Hermione?" Parvati asked snapping her fingers in front of Hermione's face.

"Huh?" she asked coming out of her reverie.

"It's time," Parvati looked at her in askance. Hermione surmised it wasn't difficult to see Hermione's sadness.

Hermione followed Parvati, who was also going to Slughorn's party, to the Common Room, pasting a bright fake smile on her face. Her misgivings increased the closer she walked to McLaggen but she wasn't going to back out now. Other than Ron's reaction, she had no reason to feel so guilty.

"Wow, Hermione, you look gorgeous!" McLaggen said, smile lopsided, eyes wandering.

"Thanks," she said shyly, looping her arm through his, letting him lead her to the party.

**HGHG**

Despite what Draco told Theo, the only thing that would keep him from observing the party was his death, and even then, he might come back as a ghost just to keep his eye on her. By now, he was nearly a pro at casting a flawless notice-me-not and stood behind a tapestry just inside the overly decorated room.

Many influential people arrived, and he kept a running tally in his head. Mostly he was acquainted with them all, and other than feeling snubbed for never receiving an invitation to Professor Slughorn's club, dismissed the prestige of the night.

Then all of a sudden, his body clenched, the lavender scent he had grown to love pervading his hiding spot. Several moments passed before she came into view. Granger was the epitome of sexiness combined with class. Her red dress showed off her curves with an elegance that he was sure was beyond McLaggen. It was demure, ladylike, and he wanted to find out exactly the way her skin tasted as he inched the zipper down her delectable back.

McLaggen laughed at something and drew Granger's attention to the ceiling where both Draco and Granger stared in horror. Mistletoe.

Bile rose in his mouth and he moved almost without thought. Even sprinting across the room, he wouldn't make it in time, but that wouldn't stop him from trying!

That bastard had his hands and lips all over Granger, feeling each and every curve that Draco had dreamed about for years. Had his own hands-on not that long ago. It was clear that she wasn't enjoying the attention as much as McLaggen clearly was, as she tried to maneuver herself out from under the mistletoe.

Draco shouldered McLaggen out from under the greenery. He wasn't so forceful that the guy would wonder what happened, but Hermione was staring awfully hard at the spot he was standing.

Granger's narrowed and suspicious eyes studied the air and he dared not move an inch for fear she would see a flaw in his magic. But when her date reached back out for her, she mumbled something of an excuse before nearly running in the opposite direction.

As McLaggen moved to follow her, Draco sent a confundus his way, wondering where his senses had gone back when he ran across the room. He could have easily used the same spell to free her from her date's clutches. Although Draco thought with a smirk, it wouldn't have been nearly as satisfying.

As the night wore on, he kept one eye on Granger, smirking as she evaded capture, time and again. Even as Potter arrived, she kept the boy at arm's length. That could be more of a testimony to McLaggen's utter lack of gentlemanly behavior, or it could be something else. Draco wasn't going to lie to himself as he hoped that the other reason might be him. With the spell he used, it wasn't completely out of the realm of possibility that she would still harbor feelings. Even if those feelings didn't have a reasonable memory to tie to. Well, that wasn't the entire truth. They did tie to specific memories; she just wasn't in a position to remember them.

There was a chance if her feelings for him had been strong enough that she would remember him eventually. He fervently hoped that she would get them back one day. After all, that was the whole reason he chose that spell in the first place.

Now that he was sure that McLaggen had less than zero chance with her, he moved towards the door, batting the golden drapes as he went. It wasn't until he was two or three classrooms down that he lifted his spell. In hindsight, that was a mistake. Not the first of the evening but definitely the worst of the bunch.

Filch had turned the corner directly in front of him, catching him by the scruff of his robed neck.

_Damnit!_  He thought, bringing the full range of forbidden cusses to the forefront of his mind, mentally spitting one after the other at the magicless squib.

Filch pulled him into the party he had just vacated and fought like hell to keep every thought and emotion behind his Occlumency. Not only had Filch brought him into the party, but he was also served up on a platter to his Godfather, Snape. And the whole cruel twist of fate was not only witnessed by Granger but also Potter who had front row seats.

"Caught him in the corridor just outside," the Caretaker said, unreasonably excited to have caught a rule breaker. "out after curfew… didn't the Headmaster state that all students should be in their Common rooms unless granted permission by staff?

"Yes, yes, alright! I am gatecrashing. Happy?" Draco said angrily. Furious with himself for being lax enough to be caught.

Filch looked elated as if he was truly happy.

"Since it is Christmas, I will allow it, just this once," Slughorn said kindly. Draco nodded and smiled, turning on the charm. He didn't particularly want to talk to the Potion's professor, but the alternative was talking to Snape. That was something he had no intention of doing.

He might have gotten away with it too if he hadn't caught Granger's eye on accident. Slughorn was congenially talking about his Grandfather, Abraxas, and his untimely end in the form of Dragon Pox but all Draco could concentrate on was her face.

As if she were working out one spectacularly difficult puzzle, she continued to stare. At him. Dent above her eyebrows. Lips, full and red, worried between her teeth. He could feel his body responding. He was a moth to a flame. Hades to her Persephone. At that moment, he could truly appreciate the god of the underworld. She was the light to his darkness as if surrounded by her own, personal, halo. Happiness was a gift she bestowed on others freely, unreservedly. He wanted to drink her up, hold her tight, and force-feed her food of the underworld just to keep her.

And that was exactly why he had to let her go.

Tearing his eyes off of her was a herculean task, but he managed it, dragging his gaze onto the one who stood next to her. And unluckily for him, that person happened to be Severus Snape.

Surprise and a little fear colored them before quickly shoving those emotions behind the most impressive Occlumency walls. If he didn't know his Godfather so well, he probably would have doubted seeing it at all.

"Draco, a word," Snape cut in.

Potter was looking between Snape and himself as if he was watching a quidditch match between just two players. Granger, however, was gone. He was sick and twisted, wanting to be near her and yet relieved that she wasn't staring at him any longer.

"It's Christmas, after all, Severus," Slughorn was saying but Snape cut him off with a growl.

"I am Slytherin's Head of House, it is up to me to say what punishment he does or doesn't receive." He grabbed Draco by the arm and pulled him out of the room.

Draco ripped his arm out of Snape's grip the moment they cleared the door, glaring at the man-handling Godfather who felt he was in the right. Didn't the man know what he was up against? How could he not know that Draco had been told specifically that he couldn't seek out help?

The two men walked the hallway, only stopping at the end of the row when Snape pulled open the door to an empty classroom. Knowing he had no other choice, Draco walked in ahead of his Godfather, jaw working, ticking in time to the blood pounding furiously through his veins.

"What do you want?" Draco said belligerently, folding his arms over his chest and leaning against one of the dusty desks.

"I know you had something to do with that necklace! You can't afford to make such mistakes. What if you get expelled? How will you complete your task then?"

"I already told you, I didn't have anything to do with that damned necklace!"

"I hope that is the truth. The attempt at best was foolish and desperate! Your name has already been brought up as the culprit."

"Who suspects me?" Draco said, furious. His blood ran cold and his mind raced back to the day of Hogsmeade and the conversation he had overheard in Granger's lap. Potter had suspected him then. Of course, the arse would tell the first professor he could find. "I didn't do it," he continued to lie, "maybe that Bell girl wasn't as pristine as the Gryffindors would like to believe. Maybe she made the wrong sort of friends or enemies!"

Snape grabbed his chin and forced Draco's eyes to his own and nearly snarled as he hit a brick wall so strong, it was a nearly physical rebound.

"I can stop you," Draco said quietly, letting his anger melt. Protecting every memory, every thought, with an iron will.

"I see your Aunt Bellatrix has been giving you lessons," Snape said.

Draco didn't refute him. It would protect him, having everyone assume he was being taught by his crazy aunt. If anyone suspected he was going to such lengths on his own, they would wonder why. What was he hiding? And he couldn't afford to be constantly attacked. He wasn't sure he could hold up under such intense onslaught. Not yet, anyway.

"What are you keeping from the Dark Lord?" Snape continued.

"I am not keeping anything from him! It's you I don't want to talk to!"

"Is that why you have been avoiding me? Going so far as to ignore my summons? Any other student wouldn't dare to disregard such instructions!"

Draco ripped off his robes and began undoing the buttons of his Oxford, tugging at his tie. He nearly burst out laughing at Snape's alarmed expression, but once the buttons were either undone or ripped off, he turned around, presenting Snape with his naked scarred back. He knew it was healing but the pink of newly grown skin stood in stark relief against his ivory back. Once unblemished, now a ruined field of red puckered skin and silvery scars. Though it would heal, he would never rid himself of the reminder.

Snape drew in a deep surprised breath. "What is this?"

"Don't trust anyone, don't seek help, don't fail," Draco intoned. This lesson was so ingrained in him, and he knew he wasn't the first or last to be taught such words. Draco knew that Snape was a Death Eater, his master's most trusted, and there was no way the man didn't know the source of the words.

Snape's mouth snapped shut, teeth clicking with the force of it. Draco turned back around and shrugged his shirt back on, grabbing his robes and wand, not even bothering to do up the buttons. Fear and fury and disbelief warred on Snape's face.

Draco walked to the door and stopped, hand on the knob as Snape began to speak once more.

"I know your father's imprisonment affected you greatly," Snape began. Even Snape knew that everything that had been put on him this year stemmed entirely from the failure of his father. Something he wouldn't ever talk about with the man who may have been the one to alert the Order in the first place.

Draco wrenched the door open and strode through, shirt and robes flapping freely behind him.

**HGHG**

The golden organza that flowed like water over the entire of the perimeter did little to hide Hermione as she spoke with Luna after Harry's disappearance. Luna seemed to know that she was hiding and had offered many strange pieces of advice. Despite Luna and her unusual qualities, she was truly relieved when the tiny blond witch pulled out her wand, casting something in a circular motion around them.

Just in time too, because McLaggen walked past, searching the crowd and walls for her, two cups of spiked punch in his hands. Hermione shuddered at the thought of what exactly they might be spiked with. Any other person, she would just assume alcohol, but the cups were emitting a fairly strange pink smoke. Never had she felt this thankful to Luna Lovegood.

"I don't think he is coming back," Luna said serenely. "Must have gotten carried away from all the wrackspurts. Understandable."

"What?" Hermione asked politely, confused. "Who isn't coming back?"

"Harry," she murmured.

"Oh," Hermione said uncomfortably, for it did seem as if her best friend abandoned his date. "Why don't I walk you back to Ravenclaw?"

"Alright," the Luna said.

Hermione stuck her head out of the diaphanous drapes and glanced around, pleased that her date was nowhere in sight. She turned back to Luna and smiled. Together they walked out of the room, eyes darting this way and that, ensuring that they were not spotted. Once they cleared the party and entered into the hallway, Hermione took a deep relieved breath. Never again would she accept a date based on making someone else jealous or angry!

"What are your plans for this Christmas?" Luna asked conversationally.

"Oh, well…" Hermione was caught off guard, not expecting such a mundane question. "I'm going to spend some time with my parents,"

Luna smiled. "That sounds nice. I'm supposed to spend this Christmas with my Grandmother, Felicity Selwyn, but with things the way they are, I don't think I should."

Hermione stopped and looked at Luna. There was no fear, just cold acceptance. The Lovegoods had long since declared their side but it was the first time that Hermione considered the danger her friend was in. Not only were the Muggleborns targets but those considered blood traitors that stood with Harry too.

She reached out and took Luna's hand, squeezing it lightly. Shared fear. Shared strength. Friendship.

Luna started walking again, softly singing under her breath and Hermione followed at a much more sedate pace, uneasy thoughts swirling around her mind. Once they reached the corridor that separated the Ravenclaws and the Gryffindors, Luna paused long enough to pat Hermione on the shoulder.

"Thanks for walking with me," Luna murmured.

"Any time," Hermione said. The girls walked away from each other, each heading to their respective dorms.

**HGHG**

The moment that Snape crossed the threshold into the Headmaster's office, he knew that the rest of his night was shot to hell. Dumbledore sat behind his desk fairly beaming, humming, and sucking on a lemon drop.

"Severus, just the man I wanted to talk to," Dumbledore said as his blue eyes twinkled over the golden rims of his half-moon spectacles.

"Wonderful," Snape deadpanned. He reached into his pocket and drew out the reason why he was sitting there with Albus instead of nursing his vintage Old Ogdon's single malt Firewhiskey that he had been slowly working his way through that year.

The chair beneath him creaked ominously as he leaned forward, handing off the tightly rolled parchment. The second Dumbledore's fingertips grasped the note, it was unfurled, his smile growing by leaps and bounds the further he read.

"This is excellent news," Dumbledore said when he finished.

Snape frowned deepening the already considerable furrow between his brows. "It makes no sense whatsoever."

"On the contrary, this confirms my belief that we are on the right track. Under normal Amortentia, he would have been obsessed and once administered the antidote or enough time had passed, he would have gone back to the way he had always acted toward Miss Granger."

Snape grunted and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "That is not the part that I object to,"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Sometimes, Severus, love just needs a push. Test them both if you want. I guarantee that neither of them are being influenced."

"Love just needs a push…" Snape fairly growled, wishing he had a pain potion available. He could feel a headache coming on. There was no physical evidence to support the theory except for one small group of werewolves. Werewolves often had different reactions to potions than nonaffected wizards. And Dumbledore was taking that  _one_  trial as the Gospel?

"Lemon sherbet?" Dumbledore asked.

"No."

"Your loss," Albus said as he popped another candy in his mouth.

Snape exhaled and in an even voice tried to get the Headmaster to see reason. "Draco would not be willing to put his family or himself at such a risk and with the task, he's been assigned… There is no way he would give her attention, even if he liked her. It would put them both at risk. It has to be a lingering side effect on wizard-kind."

"No, don't you see? That is what makes this such an interesting thing! If he allows himself to believe he is being influenced, he will allow himself to indulge in a forbidden love that he has been nursing for what is probably years," Dumbledore said with excitement. "That leads us into the part that makes this particular Amortentia experimental. Created with the sole purpose of lowering the specific inhibitions that surround the one person whom they hold a torch for. Years from now when they are married and have a family, they can always thank that one odd bottle of Amortentia!"

"You know something more, don't you, old man?" Snape said, narrowing his eyes.

"Now why would you think that?" Dumbledore said as he began tidying his desk and moving around his trinkets while avoiding Snape's insightful gaze.

"What do you know that I don't?" Snape demanded.

With a sigh filled with lofty burden, Albus looked up at the ceiling. "I happen to be familiar with this Amortentia,"

"What! I have been researching this issue for months! I've talked to you about it. You asked me to keep you updated! What the hell?"

"You never asked me if I knew anything about it," Albus said with a mischievous look.

Snape closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Spit it out for fuck's sake,"

"Even if Mr. Malfoy was given the potion again, it wouldn't work,"

"Why not?"

"This particular  _brand_ is nullified by love," Dumbledore said. "I'll let Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger know about the Amortentia, shall I?"

Snape stood suddenly, scrapping the legs of his chair loudly against the floor. With a dark, furious look he stormed out of the office and under his breath muttered, "I never should have fucking asked,"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The scene of Slughorn's Christmas party followed canon very closely in parts. I didn't copy the scene but I did borrow a phrase or two here and there. Ref: Half-Blood Prince Hardback pgs. 320-324


	7. The Last Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have poured over all of your reviews! Thank you!
> 
> Alpha love for CJRed who has read through this story for me.
> 
> Updates every Thursday!

**Chapter Seven-The Last Christmas**

This was the first year that Hermione hadn't helped her parents decorate the Christmas tree, and she felt as if it were a portent of what was to come. The manila envelope that sat untouched at the top of her trunk felt like a lead weight, pulling her underwater faster and further from the surface with each heartbeat.

Her parents seemed to feel her emotions, tiptoeing around her and treating her as if she were made out of porcelain. She didn't know how much of that was because of her severe wounds the previous June that nearly cost her her life or how much was from the depressed miasma that she just knew that she was emitting. Either way, the house was muted and not at all like past Christmases.

The three of them went through the motions of Christmas, the traditions that they once cherished became tainted. Hermione watched them all as if an outsider looking in. After days of disconnect, Christmas Eve became the snapping point.

Hermione sat in front of the telly watching, ' _It's a Wonderful Life'_ with a pile of scrunched up and used tissues scattered everywhere when her parents sat down on either side of her. Her father grabbed the remote and turned off the movie.

"Tell us what is going on, Hermione," he demanded, fear tempering the harshness of the semi-accusation.

Hermione looked between them, not nearly ready enough to have this conversation and rubbed her sweating hands on the knees of her pajama pants.

"You are not unaware of the war that is brewing in the magical world," she began. "Things are escalating. People are disappearing. Families are being found in their homes- tortured and killed. Most of the victims are the families of Muggle-born students, although some are prominent witches and wizards who have declared against Voldemort. Magical beasts have taken sides, and students must guard against their enemies, even in the halls of Hogwarts, which is undoubtedly still the safest place in the magical world as long as Dumbledore stands as Headmaster. Although, I am skeptical at how long he truly will remain its head."

Richard and Eliza Granger were nodding, fear and resolve in their eyes.

"As Harry's best friend, it will not come as a shock to you to know that I will not abandon him in this war he is called to fight in. We discussed this a little bit last year after I came home from St Mungos. This was is not one I can sit out. The fate of my kind, Muggleborns, rest upon the winner. And I can't imagine knowing that magic is real and not be able to be a part of that world."

Eliza took a tissue from the box and began dabbing at her watering eyes. Richard pinched the bridge of his nose.

"That just leaves us with one uncertainty. You, my parents. As long as I am by Harry's side, Voldemort will use any means necessary to take me out. That will include capturing, imprisoning, torturing, murdering both of you. He will use any means to lure me from Harry's side, knowing I would come and rescue you, even if it meant my life. Me, Harry, and the war cannot afford such a terrible thing to happen. You could undo everything just by being caught."

"What are you trying to say?" Richard asked.

"At the start of term, Headmaster Dumbledore called me to his office. We discussed many possibilities, many ways to keep you safe. The one we both settled on was this," Hermione shifted on the couch, tucking her feet up under her. "Professor Dumbledore has provided you a new life as Monica and Wendall Wilkins in Australia. I had told him that you had always wanted to go, and he procured the necessary documents. Even made all the arrangements personally. You own a home, an optometry, and a dog."

"We are dentists, not optometrists," Richard frowned.

"Does it truly matter? You both went to school for both. You could keep the practice as it is, or you could convert it into a dentistry. Whatever you want,"

"And you?" Eliza asked.

"What about me?"

"What would your name be? What would you do?"

"I wouldn't be coming."

"Ever?"

"Not until the war is done. Until then, you would have to pretend you don't have a daughter,"

"Now hold on a minute!" Richard exploded. "We are your parents and you are still a child! You cannot go off, fighting in a war! Not yet at any rate! You would be fighting against witches and wizards with twice as much knowledge and practical experience as you! You can come with us, learn some more, hide until you are ready."

"The moment I turned seventeen, I became an adult in the eyes of the Ministry of Magic. I no longer carry the trace. I can legally apply and hold a job. I can marry. I can do anything I want without parental approval. As long as I follow the laws of the ministry, I am free to do as I please," Hermione's heart began to pound as she watched the udder betrayal take over her father's face. Her mother was not calm either, sobbing now into her hands.

"You are our daughter," he choked.

"And being your daughter may cost me my life or Harry's if we don't protect you soon."

"What will you do if we refuse?"

"You would refuse to go when you know that it would probably mean your life and mum's?"

"If there is any chance that our staying will help you, we could not possibly leave,"

"You would put me in danger too?"

"Professor Dumbledore once said over this summer that he could protect the house using… what was it…. Filtilus?"

"Fidelius," Hermione said by rote. "That would mean you would have to stay in the house, never leaving. Not for groceries, not for walks in the summer, not for work. You would become a prisoner in your own home! Could you really do that? Never leave the house?"

Richard clenched his teeth in pure stubbornness.

"Even a Fidelius can be broken," Hermione continued.

"Not easily!"

"Dad!"

"Hermione!"

"Gah! Why are you so stubborn?" Hermione threaded her fingers into her hair and tugged in frustration.

Richard took Hermione's hands in his own and looked seriously into her eyes. "We could all walk away from this, start a new life in the States, hide where no one can find us,"

"Dad, I can't. and you already know why,"

"Then you shouldn't go back to Hogwarts,"

"You can't really stop me,"

"I am just trying to keep our family safe and intact! Is that so wrong?"

"Of course not," Hermione said, knowing they were going around in circles. Though her parents had said they understood her need to be a part of the war, they didn't. Not really. She knew that if she were them, she would do anything in her power to make sure her child was out of harm's way. But this wasn't how it was going to work. She had to help Harry. Always. Right to the very end. No matter what that end was.

"Let's call Dumbledore," Richard said. "He will talk some sense into you,"

Hermione knew then what choice she would have to make and was not ready to make it. Though she had studied the Obliviate extensively, she wasn't sure she would not botch it all up. She didn't want to erase herself from their lives, but it seemed she was left with little choice.

So, with a heavy heart, she watched her father write out a letter to Dumbledore asking him to come.

Once finished, her father walked to the fireplace and threw in a pinch of green powder and tossed the letter inside, "Hogwarts, Headmaster's Office."

Hermione watched as the letter disappeared and closed her eyes, memories of the day she received her Hogwarts letter floating to the surface.

A knock had come from the door that hot August morning and Hermione's father had answered the door.

"Good morning. I am Professor Minerva McGonagall from the Private school, Hogwarts. May I come in?"

Richard had nodded and stepped aside, allowing the older woman to pass into the living room where Hermione sat on the couch, a book in her lap.

"Is your wife here? It would probably be best to explain this all in one go," she continued politely.

"Eliza?" Richard called, keeping his eyes uncertainly on the visitor and when Hermione's mother peeked her head out of the kitchen, waved her over to join them.

"Can I get you anything? Tea?"

"Oh, no thank you, Dear," McGonagall smiled. With a gentle nudge from Richard, Hermione closed her book and offered a smile to the visitor.

"How can we help you?"

"Your daughter is special, gifted. Have you ever noticed unusual things happen when Hermione is stressed or excited?"

Both of her parents nodded, and Hermione ducked her head in embarrassment.

"Nothing to be embarrassed about, child, it is completely normal for these things to happen around a witch or wizard."

"Excuse me?" Eliza said, eyes wide as saucers.

"Hermione is a witch," McGonagall said.

Hermione lit up from the inside out, understanding pouring from the depths of her soul. It made so much sense! Hermione looked at her hands, studying them and as a result of her preoccupation, she had missed much of the rest of the conversation.

"I don't know," Richard said. "A boarding school would mean that we wouldn't get to see her very much."

"I understand your hesitation," said McGonagall. "But there is a reason why a boarding school is necessary for the training of young magical students. It allows them to grow into their magic, to seek help from a professor when needed, to have texts and classes at her fingertips. She would be able to build friendships, contacts that she would have for the whole of her life. Opportunities in our world that she would otherwise miss out on."

"What opportunities?"

"Students sit for their O.W.L.s after fifth year and N.E.W.T.s after their seventh. Most specialized fields of work require an apprenticeship but everything else merely requires a certain score on the N.E.W.T.s. Hogwarts would prepare her for the world of magic in a way that you could not do on your own."

"Are there other schools?"

"Of course. In other countries,"

"What if we refuse?" Richard asked.

"No!" Hermione protested, talking for the first time. "I want to go! It explains so much,"

Both Richard and Eliza winced. Though proud of her and excited that she was a witch, the thought of boarding school was a deterrent.

"I will give you the night to think about it. If you agree to let Hermione attend, all you need to do it take a small pinch of powder and say 'Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall's office' and toss in the letter. This is how Hogwarts usually keeps in touch with the families of Muggleborns. Though not a full floo connection, you could contact us and vice versa." She pulled out a small blue velvet pouch bulging with he fine emerald powder and set it on the mantle.

They hadn't understood completely then about the floo connection, but Hermione's parents were able to dependably converse with her school from the convenience of their own home, having little access to owls in which to rely on.

Hermione came back to herself, blinking away the tears as a loud knock disturbed the silence of the house just as it had done in August, all those years ago. Richard bolted to the door, welcoming in Albus Dumbledore, immediately.

"What a wonderful surprise," Dumbledore said jovially, smiling as if her parents hadn't just interrupted his Christmas Eve.

"Hermione just told us that you provided documents for us to go to Australia," Richard jumped right in, ignoring the polite civilities of society.

Dumbledore nodded and sat, uninvited, in the wing chair.

"I've done my best to protect as many families as I could."

"I think we should go with your first idea, the Fetellious,"

"Fidelius," Hermione corrected.

"I am no longer able to offer that," Dumbledore said. "Just two days ago, the Fidelius broke on the Prichard's house. They were muggles who produced five magical children, three of which attend Hogwarts. Every single one of them was killed."

"How did the spell fail?" Eliza asked.

"It didn't. Human error is always the reason for the fall. You have to understand that the constraints on a nonmagical family are so much worse than families that can practice magic. Food cannot be as easily procured, leading members to make themselves vulnerable by leaving. This is one of the reasons why I put together this other option for you and your wife,"

"But not Hermione,"

"She has made her wishes clear,"

"She is just a child!"

"Not in the magical world. She is legally an adult."

"Not in the muggle world!"

"She does not live in the muggle world," He said gently.

"What if we don't want to go?" Eliza said. "What if we all move to the States?"

"Then you put your daughter and yourselves at great risk,"

"Even if she comes?"

"I will not be coming, Mum," Hermione said firmly.

"I will leave you to figure out where you want to go from here," Dumbledore said, rising. Hermione followed, leaving her parents to talk in privacy.

"I don't think they will go," Hermione's voice trembled as she closed the door behind her and walked out to the sidewalk with her Headmaster.

"Do you want me to obliviate them?" Dumbledore asked sadly.

"I will do it,"

"Do you want me to stay?"

"Thank you but no. This… I can't have anyone watch," she whispered. He nodded and patted her shoulder.

"If you need me or decide to come back early, just let me know,"

"Thank you,"

Hermione took several steps back, watching as he twisted on the balls of his feet and was gone in a swirl of midnight blue robes. She stood frozen on the walkway, staring into the night where he had disappeared. She would give them Christmas, she decided. Then she would protect them in the best way she knew how.

Stiffening her spine and wiping away her tears, she hitched a smile to her face and walked back into her childhood home.

"Is he gone?" Eliza asked.

"Yeah,"

"We don't want to go to Australia, what if you need us?" Richard said.

And though the lie burned her tongue, she smiled and said, "Okay Dad, whatever you guys decide,"

He smiled at her and pulled her into a tight hug. "We will get through this. You will see."

**HGHG**

The Dark Lord sat imperiously in a chair that suspiciously looked like a throne, fingering his wand. His snake, Nagini, slithered around the boy kneeling at his feet. Her tongue flicked out, tasting the blood in the air as if she were on the hunt and her prey was moments from the kill.

Draco's hands were planted on the marble floor, his head bowed as he breathed heavily, ignoring the blood and sweat that ran over his lips and chin to drip onto the floor, not daring to move more than that. He had been lucky, so far. One Crucio after the initial backhanded slap he received the moment he entered the room was all. To be honest, he had expected worse.

"You have had monthssss," his master hissed.

"The base of the cabinet is fixed, My Lord, but the magic. I haven't been able to figure out why everything I send though gets mangled."

"You have a mere five months left to complete your task. Plenty of time, if you apply yourself. However, your clumsy attempt to kill him with the cursed necklace was doomed from conception. And now you have called attention to yourself."

Draco bowed lower, forehead resting on the cool marble, centering him. His breath fogged on the stone and blood continued to drip off his face. Ten tiny red pools gathered below him, moving with the force of his breath like the wind over the ocean. "My Lord,"

"He does you some credit, Lucius," the Dark Lord sneered. Lucius, who was newly liberated from Azkaban, stood rigid at Voldemort's side. A pale imitation of the strong and powerful man he once was. "At least your son continues to try to please me. I fear you have all but given up,"

"My Lord?" Lucius asked, terrified of his master.

"I was able to Imperius Rosmerta of the Three Broomsticks," Draco said quickly from his position on the floor. As angry as he was with his father, he couldn't bear to watch the humiliation. "She has been telling me every time the Headmaster leaves the school. I have documented them. I wanted to see if there was a pattern,"

Draco produced the small journal from inside his robes and held it out and above his still bowed head.

"Useful bit of information," the Dark Lord murmured, pleased for the first time since Draco was brought before him. "Lucius, bring me the book,"

"Yes, My Lord,"

Draco dared not make a move or a sound as his father relieved him of the account. In the silence the only sound was the turning of pages and the Dark Lord's pleased murmur before he snapped the book shut, making Draco flinch. Especially now that Nagini was slithering closer, her tongue tickling his cheek.

"Yes, this is an actual contribution. You have pleased me. However, I will not tolerate any more botched and ill-advised attempts. I have given you approval to fix the cabinet and bring our people inside to help you succeed in your mission. Do not tempt my anger."

"Yes, My Lord," He said, wincing as he knew he must tell of his latest attempt. It was the only way he thought he might keep his life. "Before Christmas Break, I had Rosmerta poison a flagon of Meade that was intended to be a gift for the Headmaster. To my knowledge, it has yet to be given,"

The Dark Lord dropped the book on the floor and Draco flinched at the loud bang as the leather hit the marble. "One step forward, two steps back. Trying to follow in your father's footsteps, are we?"

Draco began to tremble and shut his eyes tightly, readying himself for the next punishment. But it never came.

"Look at me!" Voldemort demanded, and slowly Draco looked into blood red eyes that were inches from his face.

He tore into Draco's mind like a gale force wind and Draco gagged at the intrusion. The strength of his fury as he ripped through every memory he came across, slowing only at those that involved Harry Potter. It took every single ounce of willpower he had to keep her buried, surrounded by innumerable images and flashes of mundane life, his best defense.

Jumping from one memory to another, looking for something showing Draco's wavering loyalty and doubts, searching for a reason why Draco would use such paltry attempts against one of his most powerful enemies. But there was none. There was, but they too were locked just as tightly behind insignificant moments. Though not necessarily connected to Hermione Granger, his thoughts of disloyalty had a wistful flavor. If he changed sides, would she be able to forgive him for the magic he worked on her? Hence the reason even mundane unhappiness was locked away with thoughts of her. They were too woven, too interconnected for him to be sure of safety.

Just as violently as the Dark Lord barged into his mind, he retreated, seemingly satisfied. Once he was allowed to drop his face back to the floor, Draco rose a shaking hand to his temple, gasping at the migraine that instantly formed.

"Anyone with an ounce of skill will be able to get every plan you have concocted this year, not in the least the one I have approved, and Dumbledore is no ordinary wizard. He would be able to see everything. EVERYTHING!"

Draco bowed lower. Despite being capable of keeping out those who sought to find out his secrets, he didn't think it would be wise to use the same tactic he used on Snape with the Dark Lord. That would only make him curious. This way, Draco only appeared incompetent which may be tolerated because of his age. Maybe. It was better than the alternative anyway.

"You must learn to hide your thoughts from Dumbledore. I see now, just how lucky you have been to not be caught. You are damn lucky that Severus is on your side, shielding you from the Headmaster,"

"Yes, My Lord,"

"For the rest of the holiday, you are to receive Occlumency lessons from Bellatrix. Perhaps there is still time to make you into a proper wizard," he sneered, cutting his narrowed gaze at Lucius.

Draco swallowed and looked up at his father, really looking at him for the first time. He had never seen his father so poorly. His long hair was disheveled, his clothes were rumpled though of the same fine materials he usually dressed in. It looked as if he hadn't slept in ages, great purple bags hung under his bloodshot eyes. He looked broken and at that moment Draco felt abandoned. Almost as if he didn't have a father anymore.

"Yes, My Lord," Draco whispered. "Thank you,"

"You may go," the Dark Lord hissed, flicking his attention back on Lucius. "We have some unfinished business to discuss, don't we?"

"My Lord," Lucius bowed, a dead look in his eyes as if he were already resigned to whatever fate he would be dealt with.

Having been dismissed, Draco rose and without a second look back, he walked from the room, head held high. His father had not said one word. Not  _one_  word when the Cruciatus was being used on him, though the bastard was right there the whole time. Draco knew that from that point on, he couldn't count on help from anyone. Not his father, not his mother, not Snape, and definitely not the 'other' side. Although, his memory of when Hermione found his letter and opened it only because she thought he and his family needed help ran in his mind.

Now that he was out of sight of his master and halfway up the stairs to his private room, he felt safe enough to bring those precious memories to the very front of his mind. They were all that kept him going. Those stolen moments that she was in his arms willingly. Lips and bodies pressed together, her seductive scent drowning him.

When he arrived at his room, he heard movement from the other side of the door. Locking all thoughts of Hermione tightly away, he opened the door, trepidation tempering his annoyance.

"Draco, Love, you're okay!" His mother fairly flew into his arms, face puffy and messy with untold shed tears. Uncharacteristically wild hair threatened to smother him, and, at that moment, he felt a sense of rightness, of home, so ferociously that he hugged her back just as tightly as she had him. His loving mother had always put his needs first. She was always the first person he told his exciting news to, and his emotional outbursts when he was bested year after year by Hermione.

Raised rigidly in her youth had formed her for the harsh bigotry that defined the pureblooded movement, but he always thought that had things been just a bit more relaxed, his mother would have fared better. Because of that, she was bound to live a certain lifestyle, imprisoned by convention. Though she never said it, Draco knew that she missed her other sister desperately, keeping snippets of the Daily prophet when his cousin was born, her Hogwarts scores, her appointment as Auror. All of it kept in a box sealed and hidden away in 'their spot' in the garden. A sanctuary from even Lucius that they would retreat to when she felt particularly smothered.

Draco knew her life was a good one. That both of his parents loved each other deeply, committed and monogamous. It was the type of love and marriage that he wanted. While many of his peers were locked into harsh marriage alliances that benefitted family fortunes more than personal feelings, he was lucky. His parents gave him the freedom to choose his own spouse.

That didn't change the reality that being a part of this family meant upholding certain ideals. Just as Lucius had already been marked by the Dark Lord before his marriage, so too would Draco be. Every son would be. He thought he had been marked at the start of August, a whole month before he was slated to go back to Hogwarts, because of Lucius' failures. But that wasn't the entire truth. It was a binding blood promise by Abraxas all those years ago, in the beginning. Something that Draco had not been aware of prior to coming home for the Christmas Holiday.

"I'm fine mother," he murmured, and she held his face in her hands, eyes roving over his face. Undoubtedly she was upset. "I'm safe,"

She choked on a sob and pulled his face so that their foreheads touched. Tears slid silently down her cheeks and he closed his eyes, unable to watch her. Their whole family was falling apart, and she was trapped there, forced to watch. His heart ached.

"What are we going to do," she whispered.

"I don't know." He whispered back. He tightened his hold, feeling that his arms were the only thing holding her together.

"If you ever get the chance to get out, take it," she whispered even quieter, fearing that the walls would have ears.

"Mother?"

"Promise!" She whispered fiercely.

"I can't leave you here to rot! And I will never be allowed to live if I try,"

"You do not need to worry about your father and I. We will do what is necessary to protect you, always,"

"Yeah, father just proved that downstairs," he said cuttingly, sarcasm and bitterness melding together.

"The line your father must walk is a narrow one with many traps and pitfalls along the way."

"Don't make excuses for him!"

Narcissa sighed. "Let us protect you. If you find a way out so that he can't find you. For the love of Merlin, take it."

Her sapphire eyes held him, desperation and a quiet steel strength at her core.

"Alright," he mumbled to placate her. Any way of getting out alive was dashed the moment he locked away Hermione's memories. Narcissa's plea had come just a little too late.

"Merry Christmas, my Dragon," she murmured. It was the worst Christmas he had ever experienced.

**HGHG**

_Eager fingers danced over the skin on her stomach, brushing the underside of her naked breasts. His mouth was hot and greedy as he nipped and sucked the column of her throat, lavishing special attention on the cradle of her shoulder where every rasp of his facial hair caused her to shiver._

_Husky moans filled her ears as he settled his body between her open thighs and Hermione panted in time to the thrumming of her pulse. The way he touched her was heaven. With each caress, she lost herself more and more to the undeniable pleasure that he brought her._

_It was thrilling, dangerous, and she reached up and tangled her fingers at the hair on the nape of his neck. His indrawn hiss at the tug excited her and she moaned louder when he rocked his hips into her, sliding his hard cock between the folds of her sex between their bodies._

_"More," she begged. Body tautened with each stroke that moved him over her bundle of nerves. "Dear God, don't stop!"_

_His dark chuckle surrounded her as he thrust faster, teasing her. The head of his cock, rubbing against her clit._

" _Please, Please,"_

" _Please? What is it that you want?" he whispered in her ear._

" _Fuck me," she whispered back._

_Sitting back onto his heels, he pulled her hips up the slope of his thighs, smoothing her legs to hook behind him. With a practiced hand, he guided his rigid member into her tight channel. And she felt him shudder and gasp with pleasure._

_Slowly, so slowly it was driving her mad, he pushed in, pausing only long enough to enjoy the clench of her body once he was fully seated._

" _Draco," she whined._

Hermione woke with a start, sweat beading her body and her undeniable arousal pulsating at her center. For a moment, she laid there, shocked at the dream that had awoken her. The dream felt as if it were one that she had had before, a million times, it was so familiar. The way he touched her in her dream felt so real. As if her body had actual experience with the sensation.

Why out of all the good-looking boys at Hogwarts, would she be having wet dreams of Draco Malfoy?

She stared frustrated at her ceiling and tears of pent up sexual frustration pooled in her eyes. Though she didn't want to think of Malfoy, her body seemed to long for him and she knew the only way she would be able to function the next day was to continue what her dream had started. Sliding her hand under the blankets and into her knickers, she slipped a single finger between her folds, surprised at just how wet she was. Normally, she was very responsive to her body and desires but this, this was raw need.

Rubbing herself with circular strokes, she closed her eyes and Malfoy's dream self-floated to the surface. He was lean, cut, muscular in the way of most athletes, hard muscles rippled as he moved. His hedonistic smile turned rapacious as she begged, his heavy body covering hers, her legs wrapped around his hips. And for a moment, she imagined what it would be like if he kissed lower, over her sensitive breasts, down and down until his face was flush with her center. With a devilish smirk, he would lean in, tasting her with his tongue. It was the hottest thing Hermione could ever envision and with a soft cry, she came all over her fingers.

Feeling better, she rolled onto her side and fell back asleep, much more relaxed than before.

The morning sun streamed in through her window, waking her from her slumber. Hazy dreams tauntingly hovered around the edges of her memories, fleeting and just out of reach. She groaned, turning her head away from the bright rays, trying to deny that it was time to wake. For that meant she had responsibilities, like saying her last goodbyes and obliviating her parents' memories. Neither of which she wanted to do, but both needed to be done.

Their lives were more important to her than suffering their removal. And she was pretty sure she was walking a road of no return, knowingly turning herself into an orphan. If they won the war, perhaps she could have a professional, a master, try and undo the spell that she intended to cast on them. The road she must walk until that moment was treacherous, uncertain, and the outcome sat too far in the hazy future that she knew she couldn't live solely on the hope that it could be undone. She had to let them go.

Hermione left her room robotically as if someone else was in control of her limbs and walked down the stairs to where she could hear her parents singing as they made breakfast. Smiles lit their faces when they saw her turn the corner and lean against the doorway, as she had nearly every morning since she turned five.

"Morning, Sweetie!" Eliza said, placing a platter of pancakes on the table. Blueberry. Hermione began to tear up. They were her favorite.

"Princess," Richard murmured. He pressed a kiss to the bird's nest attached to her head and continued around the table, laying plates and silverware as he went.

Hermione took a shuddering breath, inner steel forcing her spine straight. "I love you both very much,"

Eliza looked at her strangely, albeit with a smile on her face. "We love you too,"

"Always," her father said.

Hermione slid into the chair that had always been hers and smiled with gratitude as her mother placed a small stack of blueberry pancakes on her plate. Together they ate Boxing Day breakfast, Eliza chattering about the extraordinary sales at the shops, vowing to elbow anyone who stood in her path to Harrods. Hermione snorted, amused.

When they finished their breakfast, Hermione shuttled the dirty dishes to the sink and wrapped up all the leftovers and set them in the refrigerator. Her parents took up positions next to the sink, her father washing, her mother drying and putting away.

Her father said something in a low voice to his wife and she blushed, smacking him lightly on the arm. He responded by snatching her around the waist, pulling her in for a kiss while dipping her backward, body draped over his arm.

Hermione watched, heart in her throat as she lifted her wand and whispered, " _Obliviate_ ,"


	8. Three Temptations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Around this time three years ago, I started writing and posting fanfiction. Writing has become something vitally important, an outlet for all my Harry Potter feels. Last Thursday I hit a new and exciting milestone for me. Over the course of these three years, I have archived over 700,000 words for the Harry Potter Fandom!
> 
> To celebrate, I am uploading Chapter 8 now! Regular updates will still continue every Thursday, including this one. Thank you all for your wonderful support that makes me love to write Hermione-centric fics! Without the invaluable feedback and encouragement from reviewers and readers, I would have probably never written more than one story.
> 
> Always alpha love for CJRed!

**Chapter Eight- Three Temptations**

The Hogwarts Express whistled, signaling its last call for passengers and when Draco pulled away from his mother's hug, he caught sight of Hermione Granger running through the crowd as if the hounds of hell were on her heels.

Narcissa clicked her tongue in disapproval but otherwise ignored her, and Draco was grateful. In his experience, there was little that he could hide from his mother. Right away she would know how much he liked Granger because listening to his mother disparage her would break what little willpower that he still had to stay away. However, it didn't escape his notice that Granger was alone, friendless, and that was the first temptation of the day.

He hauled his trunk to the train, stowing it away once he found the compartment that Theo had taken over. The man himself was sitting next to the window reading, ignoring everything going on around him. Not that Draco could blame him. Theo had been brought in front of the Dark Lord for the first time over the holiday, and though he wasn't marked, he would be soon. Wife or not. Neither of them wanted to see that.

"Draco!" Pansy said happily as she walked into the compartment behind him, throwing her arms around his waist in a tight hug.

"Good holiday?" He asked with a slight smile on his lips and patted her back. For all that Pansy was clingy, she was a friend. They weren't as close as most people believed but it was her way of trying to keep her parents off of the topic of her marriage. Knowing that she didn't really have any interest or design on him, he let the misunderstanding stand. It wasn't until this year that he had a girl he wanted to be with anyway. And the one she was burning for was clueless just like the year before and the year before that.

She let him go and sat next to Theo. Using her shoulder to bump into him, Pansy forced him out of his deep concentration. Theo sighed loudly as if greatly put upon and closed the book around his finger, holding it in his lap.

"Pansy," he acknowledged with an eye roll.

"Get anything good this year?" she asked, still sitting impossibly close. Theo tried to scoot away but he had doomed himself by sitting next to the window. He was stuck. There was nowhere to run.

Draco tried to prevent a smirk while taking the seat opposite of Theo. He wasn't quite sure he succeeded when he caught sight of Theo's thunderous face.

"Do I ever?" Theo replied, waving the question away. It was common knowledge that Theo's father thought that being the Nott heir was gift enough. Draco supposed it would be an understatement to say that Theo and his father never had a good relationship.

"Hm," Pansy said, moving a little bit away. Not enough to make Theo forget that she was there, but just enough so that he wasn't cringing into the window either.

The compartment door flew open and Blaise swaggered in, swathed from head to toe in new Italian duds. "Hey boys… Pansy,"

"Blaise," Pansy said.

Immediately she tensed up and Draco watched the interaction with quite a bit of curiosity. When they had left for the Christmas Holiday, they were normal. Good friends. But now, there was a tense undercurrent that stifled the compartment. Something must have happened over the Holiday. That conclusion only firmed up at the new wolfish grin Blaise sent her way. Draco raised a brow, half afraid to ask and Pansy avoided his eyes like the plague. Just as well, he wasn't sure or not if his closest friends knew he had been forced into additional sessions of formal 'training' – if one could call that practice in torture training - in Legilimency and Occlumency over the holiday break. He refused to bring up the harsh memories of Aunt Bellatrix and her brutal lessons. Barely able to protect what he needed to protect.

Just then Head Girl, Apolline Mayberry, stuck her head in the cabin, her hawkish gaze zeroed in on Draco. "Marcus and I thought you had died this year, Malfoy. Forget you were a Prefect?"

Draco leaned back into the seat and repressed a huff of frustration. He had too much to deal with this year without having to worry about Prefect duty too. "No,"

"Glad to hear it! You can patrol the train to make it up to your Heads since we took the brunt of the work you skived off. And no amount of bribery or flattery will get you out of it,"

Reluctantly, he nodded, and she beamed at him before shutting the compartment door. She hadn't left, however; she was still there peering at him through the glass. After a moment, when Draco realized that she was going to stay there until he joined her in the hallway, he got to his feet.

Blaise saluted him sarcastically, Pansy waved goodbye halfheartedly- still darting looks at Blaise out of the corner of her eye, and Theo gave him a look. The kind of look he had given Draco a million times when he caught Draco looking at Hermione throughout the first term. Draco merely waved and resigned himself to doing something he had no desire to do. Sounded about on point for the way his year was going.

"Wonderful," Apolline said sarcastically, watching him shut the door of the compartment behind him before walking away. Draco grumbled something intelligible behind her back and went the opposite way.

Three minutes in, and he was already bored. The intelligent students scattered and hid their contraband at the sight of him. Pretending he didn't see any of it, he moved on, hoping that the younger students would be prudent enough to at least try and hide it so that he wouldn't have to do anything about their rule breaking. Some students, mostly Slytherins greeted him politely but there were even a few Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs with Slytherin ties that extended friendly greetings. It was widely known that most of his vitriol was saved almost exclusively for Gryffindors, and though some of the students in the other houses annoyed him, he stayed polite. Some of them would be useful contacts when they were older and in useful positions. They obviously felt the same about him.

Draco was three-quarters of the way down the train when he heard her voice. A thrill raced through him sending shivers of pleasure up and down his spine. He approached the open door of her compartment and leaned back against the panels beside it. That was his second temptation of the day.

"He isn't on the train, Colin," Hermione said in her frustrated, might kill a person, voice. Draco smirked and cast his notice-me-not. Slowly, leaning around the corner to see her. Other than that Creevey kid, she was alone.

"Is he coming back?" Colin pressed.

"Of course he is coming back! He stayed with the Weasleys for Christmas, they will probably floo in later." Draco narrowed his eyes and something vile twisted within him. Potter.

"Why didn't you stay with them too?"

"Colin! That is none of your business!"

"Are you and Ron still fighting? Can I get a picture?"

"Colin, I swear to Merlin if you don't disappear in three seconds, I am going to hex you,"

He pursed his lips, unimpressed, used to having threats from various people. "Fine,"

Draco watched as the boy stomped away, marveling at his temerity. Everyone knew that Colin Creevey was wont to follow around Potter, but he had never seen the younger Gryffindor approach Hermione without Potter in tow.

With an amused huff, he pushed off the wall and took a step forward, intending on continuing down the train. His attention was caught by the compartment door that stood wide open, left that way by Creevey during his exodus, and he couldn't force his feet into motion.

It was another temptation he was not ready for, and the call of how easy it would be to just walk in was a siren, luring him to his final death at sea. He could no more ignore the enticement than he could stop breathing. He doubted that there was a strong enough force on earth to force him to stride past.

With a flick of his wand, he silenced his steps and movements and with a rapidly beating heart, stepped into the compartment. Immediately after he crossed the threshold, she stood and slammed the door shut and flicked her wand to turn the blind.

"Stupid camera. Colin has no freaking boundaries. Not one. I swear to Merlin he is going to end up dead by friendly fire!" Hermione muttered darkly.

Draco smirked and sat down, watching her as she settled back into her seat directly across from him. All of a sudden, she looked back at the compartment door and with a furrow between her brows, flicked her wand again. Draco could hear the lock click from where he sat.

He swallowed and felt the blood drain from his face. Instead of indulging in the guilty pleasure of observing her, he now felt like a creep, hidden and unable to declare himself. He was stuck. And it was just the two of them, alone, together.

Hermione looked out of the window with a glazed look in her eye and after a few minutes of silence, a heavy sigh escaped her. Though it was cold, she leaned her forehead against the window and breathed on the glass, drawing figures in the fog before wiping it away and starting again. But no matter how many times she drew and wiped clean, Draco noticed that she always drew the same thing- a man, a woman, and a child. Always with a wistful look on her face.

An hour passed before she dropped her hand into her lap. Her eyes had closed ages ago, her sketches getting less and less precise and now she was snoring softly against the cold pane.

Draco snorted in amusement, wondering how anyone could fall asleep like that. Crossing his arms and stretching out his legs, he decided to get comfortable. It wasn't like he really wanted to patrol the train anyway.

He couldn't help but study her profile, drinking in the sight of her. For so long he had repressed all of his memories of her, and he realized that he had forgotten just how beautiful she was. Though her hair was wildly curly, the highlights in her light brown tendrils shined like brass in the fading light. Her lips, usually rosy, were more on the red side, plumper too as if she had spent her vacation biting them. Perhaps she had. In Draco's opinion that was one of her more seductive habits. The usual glow on her cheeks was missing and he felt more than observed that she was unhappy. Could she be that broken up by not being invited to the Weasel's hovel? Was this unhealthy parlor caused by Potter's lengthy absence?

Hermione moaned and his attention snapped right back to her lips, his eyes wide. Her deep sleep became disturbed and Draco studied her with alarm as she started to squirm. Moaning and tossing her head from side to side, he thought she was having a nightmare, but that theory was quickly shot to hell as she made a noise that was pure sex. There was no other way to describe the sounds that she was now making. They were the wonderfully sinful kind that he had always wanted to extract from her. The kind that said that her needs were being well catered to.

"More," she mumbled, and Draco grew hard instantly.

"Merlin's balls," he whispered breathlessly. He couldn't tear his gaze away if his life depended on it, especially when she began to arch her back slightly, as if moving her breasts closer to whoever she was dreaming about _. And if there was any mercy in the world_ , Draco thought,  _that man is me!_

"Ahhh," she breathed and woke, eyes flying open.

She looked around the compartment with a blush to rival the scarlet of the Hogwarts Express. He could tell that she was embarrassed, but he just felt this sickening disappointment. As if he had waited this whole time with bated breath, hoping she would say his name, and she didn't. More than anything did he want to hear his name on her lips. On the same note, it also terrified him. The repercussions of such a thing would be their undoing.

"Oh my goodness," she murmured and leaned forward elbows on her knees, cradling her face in her hands. "Why does this keep happening?"

The cold in his gut reached all the way down to his toes, immediately killing whatever desire he had. Fear grew by leaps and bounds. His mind jumped into two possibilities, one worse than the previous. Either she was dreaming of someone else like Potter, or she was remembering him. It was true that he didn't want her to forget him, it was also true that until his mission was over, she had to. For both of their sakes. But there was no question in his mind, the worse outcome would be that there was another man she was dreaming of. And even worse if it was Potter's name she was about to murmur in that sensuous voice. He was too selfish by far to want to hear that.

After reaching that sobering conclusion he turned toward the door, wondering how he was going to escape without being caught. There was only about a half-hour left until Hogwarts. Could he wait it out?

Hermione leaned back against the seat and glanced at the door consideringly, almost as if she were afraid, before flicking her wand, double-checking her strong wards. Then she dropped her wand on the seat next to her and unbuttoned and unzipped her muggle jeans.

Draco's heart just about stopped.

Unable to help himself, he watched as she shimmied her hand into her knickers but slammed his eyes tightly shut when he realized that she intended on getting herself off, right there in the compartment. His heart began to race, and his breathing wouldn't have looked out of place while running in a marathon.

Over his own out of control breathing, he could hear her gentle pants, soft moans, and the rasping sound of her hand moving inside her clothes. And if all of that wasn't enough torture in the most exquisite way, he could hear how wet she was.

"Yes," she said tightly.

Draco was right back to full arousal, cock stiffer than it had ever been and it was pure agony knowing what she was doing, and that he couldn't reveal himself and join in. So close and yet, so very far away. He wished that they were still on good terms. Wished they had never fought that day in the abandoned classroom and that he never dropped that letter from his father. He wanted so badly to lift his notice-me-not and drop to his knees in front of her and worship her glorious cunt until she screamed and begged him to stop.

"Draco," she whispered, brow furrowed.

Draco froze.  _No fucking way!_  His eyes snapped open, thinking that she must have caught him amid his filthy desires. Had he had let his spell dissolve in the face of his all-consuming need to pleasure her? When his eyes flew to her face, she still had hers closed, hand still working, bottom lip trapped between her teeth. He fought to control the moan that was forcing its way out of his throat. He was soaring high!

"Oh!" she panted before shuddering and she reached her peak right in front of his shocked eyes. For the rest of his life, he would never, ever forget the way Hermione Granger looked as she orgasmed, his name on her lips. Not if he lived to be a thousand. Not even if he lost all reason under his master's punishing wand.

**HGHG**

Hermione leaned back against the seat of the train sated. Her mind was cleared from the fog of her lusty dream and for the first time since she obliviated her parents, she was able to not think. It was comfort in its most base form.

"Scourgify," she murmured, pointing her wand at her hand, vanishing the evidence of her naughty thoughts.

Then, she reached for her trunk and pulled out her Hogwarts uniform, glad that she was alone. Conveniently, it enabled her to change right there in the compartment. Usually, she either went to the bathroom or she just pulled on her robes over her muggle clothes because of Harry and Ron. Today, she would be able to change at her leisure and in complete privacy.

Once she pulled her sweater over her head, she paused and sniffed the air. A familiar scent assailed her nostrils as if it had wafted from across the tiny space. How she missed it before, she had no idea, but it was nearly overwhelming now. The smell was as familiar as it was arousing.

All of the good she had done by bringing herself to completion was undone. Pressing her knees together, she reached back into her trunk and drew out a fresh pair of knickers. Surely, the ones she had on were completely ruined.

Hermione pulled on her white oxford before shucking her jeans, doing up the buttons fastidiously over her satin clad breasts. Still, she was thinking of the unidentifiable smell as she pushed the trousers down her legs and hooked her fingers at the sides of her knickers. As she lowered them, she kept thinking that she could sink into a pillow and huff the scent all day long and never grow tired of it. The way it made her ache was delicious in the most overwhelming way but tucked deep in her breast there was a tiny piece of her heart that hurt. Confused and wanting, was exactly the way the smell made her feel.

She tossed her knickers aside with the thought that she would rather put on a new pair quickly than get caught with her arse in the air if someone happened to break through her wards. Snickering at the unlikely scenario, she wondered briefly what she would do if the current object of her fantasies walked in. Would he pause in the doorway and look her up and down with an appreciative gleam? Would he roll his bottom lip between his teeth and smirk, tugging at his own tented trousers? Or would he shut the door behind him and take the time to ravish her thoroughly before leaving? Just the image of Draco on the seat with Hermione in his lap made her neediness skyrocket. Would he even want her?

Quickly, she pulled on green satin knickers and smoothed her hands over her bum, objectively admiring her curves. She didn't often think of or look at her body, but she did appreciate thinking that her form wasn't so bad and noticed that her bum was better shaped than the other girls in her dorm. She was nicely rounded in all the right spots, she thought semi-objectively.

Next, she pulled on her skirt and tucked in her blouse, leaving off the sweater vest, rationalizing that it was a tad too warm to wear it especially if wasn't yet a requirement. Finally, she topped the whole look off by donning her school regulation Gryffindor robes, effectively hiding every single curve she possessed.

After tucking her muggle clothes inside her trunk, she searched the floor for her knickers. When she came up empty, she even got on her knees to feel underneath the seats. Not even a silent 'Accio' brought them zooming out of their hiding spot. Hermione frowned wondering where on earth her knickers had gone but shrugged when she didn't find them. There were only so many places her knickers could be hiding. Upon checking her person and not finding them, she reasoned that they must have gotten caught up in her discarded muggle clothes and resolved to thoroughly check her trunk after she returned to Gryffindor tower.

As the train came to a stop, she looked around once more, slightly mortified at the thought of leaving such a personal item behind. Eventually, she undid the spells that kept the blinds down and the door locked, leaving the compartment behind.

**HGHG**

Draco was in a daze.

The moment that she had pulled her sweater over her head, he turned his entire body around, knowing that he wouldn't have been able to keep his eyes shut. Especially knowing that the only thing between them was only that thin layer of skin and his gentlemanly training that kept them closed in the first place. He was a tad bit ashamed to admit that he wasn't confident in his will power.

However, even that gesture came with repercussions. The moment his back was turned, he heard her sniff the air. Suddenly he was rethinking wearing cologne. Though she didn't seem to connect that smell to him this time, she eventually would if he kept wearing it. He could just imagine a scenario where she bumped into him in the halls in between classes. She would know then, exactly who that cologne belonged to.

Then her knickers were there on the floor centimeters from his shoe and all he could do was stare at them. Light pink cotton with tiny cream lace around the edges. Before he even thought about what he was doing, he reached out a shaking hand and grabbed them, crumpling them into a tiny ball in his fist.

Having them was the best and most terrifying thing in the world. If he kept collecting pieces of her, wouldn't someone find them eventually? It was unconscionable to put them both in such danger. No matter how much he admonished himself, he couldn't let them go. Couldn't make his hands unclench enough to drop them back on the floor.

Even when he thought that she would find him while searching for the damn thing, he couldn't make himself let go. Perhaps that was a sign that he was in too deep. Perhaps it was bourgeoning madness. Perhaps he was only dreaming. He didn't know. All he knew was that at this moment, awake or asleep, he held the creamed knickers of Hermione Granger. That was his third temptation.

When she left the compartment, he stayed, knowing that he needed time to collect himself after what he had just witnessed. To be honest, he had no idea that Hermione Granger even thought about naughty things like that, let alone would act them out on a partially full train. Magical barriers or not.

But like everything to do with Hermione, he forced the memory into his safe space. He was no exception for the need of disembarking the train. Few students still lingered and by the time he reached the platform, the swirling confused mass of students had dissipated. Grabbing a ride to the castle in the Thestral pulled carriages.

Again, he was pulled into the memory of his train ride as he caught the flowing wisps of her hair as she closed a carriage door. But he also knew that just thinking about Hermione fully clothed and masturbating would undoubtedly keep him occupied. Too occupied to guard against the two Legilimens in the castle. With her safety paramount in his mind, he struggled to push the memory behind his iron walls. He wasn't sure how well he succeeded, however.

Draco stuffed her knickers in his trouser pockets, as deep as they would go, and walked to the end of the platform as the last few carriages pulled up.

Theo was there waiting for him, book still in hand, as he waved another carriage off. Draco dropped his spell without saying a word.

"And where have you been?" Theo asked while pulling open the last carriage door. He hadn't looked behind him, nor had he acted as if he was aware that his best friend, who had spent the entire ride 'patrolling', was standing there.

"Apolline told me to patrol. You were right there when she demanded it of me," Draco drawled, sliding his hands in his pockets. The gesture was only partly a habit. The forbidden sat tantalizingly in the back of his mind, unforgettable and soft against the tips of his fingers.

"That was hours ago mate! No one ever patrols that long!" Theo complained as he climbed in the last carriage and fairly collapsed on the seat.

Draco shrugged and followed Theo, sitting opposite. They were the last of the students going to the castle and the perk of that was that they wouldn't have to share it. The downside was that the entryway of the castle would be in chaos. It would take them forever to work their way into the dungeons and to their Common Room.

"Pansy is a menace," Theo complained. "Nearly sat in my lap for the entire ride."

"What is going on with Pansy and Blaise? They were being weird." Draco watched Theo carefully. Draco wasn't the only Slytherin holding a secret torch for a girl. This infatuation happened to be deadly amusing seeing as how both of them held a secret longing for each other.

"Dunno. But I do know that whatever it is, Blaise seems happy about it and she doesn't."

Draco sighed. He would have to get it out of one of them later and he selfishly hoped that it wouldn't affect him. But even more importantly, he hoped it wouldn't tear Theo apart.

"So," Theo said, cutting his eyes to Draco. "No one saw Granger on the train either. Not since the beginning of the trip anyway,"

Draco's heart sped up, and immediately the image of her hand down her knickers came to the forefront. He closed his eyes and tried to grunt noncommittally.

Apparently, it didn't work because Theo leaned in and with a huge sparkly smile said, "You were with Granger, weren't you?"

Draco sniffed, trying to fight the rising blush. It started somewhere in his chest and crept up his neck before suffusing his cheeks.

"Holy Fuck! Draco! That's huge!" he gushed, the biggest fanboy of the Draco-Hermione ship that he had singlehandedly built and was the only participant in. That he was aware of at any rate. And if he didn't also include the actual people in the ship…

"Don't get excited," Draco said, letting his head thump against the side of the carriage. "She still doesn't remember me. You do remember the reason why I locked away her memories, right?"

Theo leaned forward and rubbed his hands together. "Yeah but the problem was that she knew of… you know… and now she doesn't! That doesn't mean you can't get a little snogging in, here and there,"

"I think she still remembers bits and pieces," Draco admitted reluctantly. In a concerted effort to keep Theo from getting excited, Draco struggled to convince himself that he couldn't go there. Even if Theo's enthusiasm was infectious.

"No way man, that spell is pretty thorough. I've seen it used before. I, more than anyone, know what it can do,"

"Your mom," Draco said softly, and both boys nodded. "I saw something that makes me believe that even if she doesn't remember the last few months of memories, she at least remembers the feelings she had for me. It isn't out of the realm of possibility that some memories are coming back to her."

"That is true. However, it wasn't that long ago that you put her under that spell. My mother took years and years to remember the pieces of her former life," Theo said seriously.

"But what if Granger's feelings for me are really strong? You weren't there when I repressed her memories. You didn't see how fucking long it took to lock them all away! More than ten minutes!"

"That's amazing news! Why didn't you tell me all of this sooner? And, why aren't you more excited about this?" Theo said growing more and more animated.

"Let's imagine that she does have these incredibly deep feelings for me, how long would it take before all of her memories returned to her? How long until she remembers my mission? How long until she remembers that I used that spell  _on_ her so that she would forget? Do you think she will be all-forgiving and ask me to sweep her away in my arms? I bloody well think not," he said passionately. "This changes nothing. Until I have completed what I need to, I can't risk her memories returning."

Theo groaned. "You make rooting for your love life impossible. But Draco, I don't think you will get to choose when they return to her and I hope she gets them sooner rather than later. You deserve to have some love in your life."

"Why? Because I'm such a good guy?" His lips twisted with self-derision. Just then the carriage stopped. Draco shrugged and was the first one out of the carriage, desperately trying to get away from the friend who always said all the things he wanted to hear concerning Hermione Granger.

There was nothing he wanted more than to have Granger with memories fully intact and holding him the way she used to in abandoned classroom three.

**HGHG**

Hermione flopped on her bed; the contents of her trunk scattered and disorganized. The books were in neat piles but everything else had been tossed around without regard to any order or cleanliness. Panic swept in as she reached the bottom and still no pink and cream knickers came into view. There was only one reasonable explanation, she thought grimly. She must have vanished them inadvertently on the train. After all, it wouldn't be the first account of accidental magic since she obliviated her parents.

Each uncontrolled event was small. Lights flickering, mirrors breaking, things moved, magic that was deemed too trivial to be accounted for. Not that she was being monitored but she wasn't used to the freedom of using magic in her own home. Loneliness had crept in as she stayed in her bedroom magically hidden while her parents packed up some of their more personal belongings. The house had become oppressively quiet after they left for the airport.

She lowered her head onto her folded arms that rested on the lip of the trunk. Exhaustion was her new companion, eclipsing even her grief of losing her parents to her own wand. But with them, she knew they were safe, alive, and even happy. The longer she stopped to think about it, the worse her sadness became, and she didn't want to feel sad. She wanted to look back at her life and remember what a wonderful family she had and the incredible childhood they had provided.

Peaking out from the inner depths of her trunk was a prettily wrapped package and Hermione drew it out, wondering when she had tossed it in among her things. The paper was metallic silver, topped with a red bow. It was on the heavy side but not overly so. If she had to guess, she would say it was a book. With a small smile, Hermione turned over the tag.

_In the event that you might find this useful._

_Happy Christmas_

_Albus Dumbledore_

Hermione tore off the paper, heedless of its pristine beauty and came face to face with a heavily used journal. Every page was written in. Even the margins were not spared its owner's quill. She flipped through the pages until she came to the very first page.

_This journal is the property of Ianthe Belby- Documenting Experimental Amortentia and its side effects._

Was there something important that Harry needed to know about Merope's Amortentia that she used on Voldemort's father that they didn't already know?

A light knock sounded at the door to her dorm and she placed the journal on top of the stack of books, and looked at the mess around her before shrugging and saying, "Come in,"

Ginny opened the door and looked around the dorm slowly, a pinched look on her face. For a moment her face showed interest as she took in the well wore journal that sat on top of the stack of books but quickly put it out of her mind.

"Everything okay?" Hermione asked.

Ginny snorted and gestured to Hermione's scattered things. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

Hermione laughed weakly and raised her wand, standing. For a moment she was reminded of the movie  _Sword in the Stone_  and the part where Merlin was packing up all of his belongings in the woodcutter's cottage. Morosely, she wished she had a sassy sugar bowl of her own to scold.

With a flick of her wand, all of her things rose in the air and neatly replaced themselves back in her trunk. Everything except the books, that is. She rarely used magic on those precious tomes. Cradling them like newborn kittens, she gently laid them on top of the organized stacks of her belongings and closed the lid.

"We missed you at Christmas. Phlegm was there." Ginny started. With a sniff, she adopted a haughty pose and in her best French impersonation said, "Es thes et? Ze 'orrible music." Ginny switched back to her regular voice. "Nobody likes Christina Warbeck except Mum. Do you see any of us complaining? No! We wait it out just like every other year!"

Hermione laughed. Happy to talk about something as mundane as not caring for a future sister-in-law. It made Hermione think that though her whole world was destroyed, that wasn't the case for everyone. The world still revolved and moved and changed. Life went on and it was a beautiful thought. Time would heal her broken heart.

"The boys are looking for you," Ginny said as she played with a strand of her long red hair.

"Ron is looking for me?" Hermione asked skeptically, disbelief coloring her face.

"Well, no," Ginny admitted with a slightly uncomfortable look in her eye. "but he should. He is being a complete arse. To go so far as to not even invite you for Christmas. I swear I needed you there!"

Hermione smiled. "Even if I was invited, I wouldn't have been able to come this year. My parents needed me home."

"Oh." Ginny shifted and looked a bit ashamed for not thinking of Hemione and her possible desire to spend the holidays with her parents. "How was your holiday?"

Though her smile tried to waver, she held it. "Great," she lied.

"I'm glad someone had a good holiday," Ginny murmured depressingly.

Hermione couldn't help sighing. "Yeah,"

Ginny frowned and looked uncomfortable as she continued. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Hermione said slowly. Her heart began to pound, and she wondered what would make Ginny so uncomfortable that she felt weird asking her what was on her mind. The girl hadn't even blushed when she divulged to Hermione all the boys she had kissed before the Christmas holiday.

"Are you angry at my brother because you are jealous?"

Hermione laughed lightly, relieved. "No. Should I be?"

"Bill told Ron that was probably what was wrong with you when Ron asked his opinion. Neither of them knew it but I was just outside the door." Ginny admitted with just as much relief.

"I'm angry at Ron because he is being unreasonable. He was so ready to dump our many years of friendship over the fact that I had accused Harry of giving Ron Felix Felicis' during the last Quidditch match. It didn't seem to matter that Harry deliberately tricked me so that I would see the vial of potion as he tipped it over Ron's cup.  _I_  was the focus of his anger. That is why we are fighting. Because Ron is bloody immature!" Hermione ended her rant, voice slightly raised.

Ginny mashed her lips together and rolled her eyes. "Ron is an idiot,"

Both girls nodded and lapsed back into silence.

"Are you going to forgive him?" Ginny asked carefully.

"If he manages to get his head out of his arse, probably,"

"Don't make it too easy on him. After all, I was stuck sharing a room with Phlegm all because he didn't invite you to Christmas,"

Hermione snorted. "noted,"

**HGHG**

To be honest, he never thought he would be there. Draco sat on his bed with the curtains tightly shut, his back flush with the headboard but it wasn't where he was that set him off. It was the knickers clenched tightly in his fist.

He never thought he would be that guy, the guy so desperate for his girl that he was considering wanking with her knickers in hand. But with all the stress and Aunt Bellatrix invading his mind over and over and over throughout the holiday, he needed to feel close to Granger.

Deep inside he wished that they were on good terms and that she remembered him in that positive light that he was sure she had begun to adopt. Beggars, however, could not be choosers. Would it make him a bad person to use her knickers in such a way? He snorted. Him being a good person was already shot to hell. What did one more morally grey infraction matter?

Hermione's natural scent wafted off the cloth as he buried his face in the soft fabric. She was sharp, tangy, and so sweet. Just the smell of her sent a tidal wave of blood rushing to his groin but it was the memory of her coming to his name that made ignoring his situation untenable. Any harder and he would snap in half.

Still, Granger was the light in his darkness, and he couldn't, wouldn't, taint that for a quick wank. Leaning over, he tugged open his night table drawer and gently set her knickers in the back. A piece of her to torture himself with later. But at least at this moment, he was the man she would want to see, to be with had she remembered him. His need to be honorable outweighed his lust. This time, at least.

Lying to himself was becoming his favorite past time and he settled into the illusion of what his life would have looked like without the darkness nipping at his heels. Hope continued to bleed through his carefully crafted walls that maybe, just maybe she wasn't as lost to him as he had previously thought.


	9. Theo's Dilemma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again thank you to CJRed, the alpha reader for this story.
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr for chapter by chapter teasers if you are into that kind of thing. Jessiyl
> 
> Updates every Thursday!

**Chapter Nine- Theo's Dilemma**

Mondays were Draco's favorite days for two reasons. One because Granger was in many of his classes and two because he could stare at her in Arithmancy without anyone being the wiser since he was the only Slytherin in the class. It wasn't always that way though. Theo had once been there at the beginning of the year but since there was a conflict with his schedule, he was allowed to take the class with the seventh years. An allowance only made because he was brilliant in the subject, possibly the only person to ever have come in tied with Hermione for scores.

This Monday was going to be a particular favorite, he knew it almost immediately. It was Arithmancy, the very first class after the new year, and the professor came in with a devilish smile.

"Alright, class, we are going to try something new. It shouldn't come as a shock that once you graduate you will be expected to gain employment of some sort. And my own brush with difficult co-workers leads me to believe that we don't teach well enough the ability to get along with people who can be difficult for many reasons.

Personal feelings or beliefs. It doesn't matter. Out in the real world, you will have to work together with people who you may not like. So, with this in mind, I have drafted new partners for the rest of the year. Partners are listed on the board." Professor Vector smirked; eyebrows high as if she was waiting for the fallout.

Draco leisurely perused the list and once he found his name, his stomach leaped with excitement. Draco Malfoy- Hermione Granger. Bolded, in all its glory. Since he usually sat behind her, he was able to watch her reaction firsthand. She was a little slower than he was with locating their names, but when she did, she stiffened into a board and shook her head in denial so fiercely that it made her curls dance around her shoulders.

Draco watched and waited with bated breath for her to stick her arm in the air and demand a different partner, but as the minutes ticked on, he realized that was not going to happen. She had accepted the pairing, even if she didn't like it.

"Alright class," Vector said once a few minutes have passed. "The person in the second column will move to their partner, everyone else, stay in your seats.

And Draco rather thought that was the best part of the whole arrangement. She would have to come to him.

Hermione stood slowly, making the moving process take double the time she needed but eventually, everything was in her arms and she turned around. Relying on the blank mask that he was constantly utilizing, he stared at her, a veritable dare. When he didn't say anything, she must have thought that was out of character. And it was, he supposed. If one discounted everything they found together earlier that year. That was the point though, her forgetting and him pretending.

"Malfoy," She said in bland acknowledgment and he nearly winced.

He replied with a nod and a small smirk, "Granger,"

"Going to insult me at every opportunity?" her chin rose a fraction of an inch.

It took everything in him not to respond by laughing. So fierce. "No,"

"Why? Because you turned over a new leaf?" she asked sarcastically.

"Maybe I just have better things to do these days," He rolled his eyes and hitched his brow. Was she or wasn't she ever going to sit down?

She sighed as if acquiescing was the most difficult thing to do in the entire world. "Fine. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt."

Isn't that what she was always doing anyway, giving him the benefit of the doubt? He felt guilty as if he were back in the library, sick, his head in her lap as she defended him to her best friend who had very nearly guessed his entire plot.

"Miss Granger, do you intend on taking your seat?" Vector asked with a knowing look.

Hermione looked at him and then quickly away as if to say that she wasn't sure. In the end, she rounded the table and took her seat next to him, sitting gingerly on the edge as if she was waiting for him to strike. He leaned back in his chair and forced his body to relax. Lavender floated around her, bathing him in its wondrous scent. Heaven and Hell surely existed together because he felt immersed in both at the same time.

As Vector began to drone about the lesson, his thoughts wandered, and he noticed that she began to relax. By the end of the lesson, she was sitting in her chair normally, fully engaged in the teacher, eyes shining with the acquisition of new knowledge. She was beautiful.

He couldn't help but watch her out of the corner of his eye and didn't realize Vector had dismissed them until Hermione stood. She ignored him, packing away her books. While he followed at a more sedate pace.

As he approached the door to the classroom, he made it just in time to see her run nose-first into Theo's chest.

**HGHG**

Hermione had to get out of that class. Malfoy was acting weirder than usual and it was freaking her out. He wasn't taking notes or doing anything at all as far as she could tell except staring off into space. It made her nervous and twitchy, especially since she hadn't been able to get him out of her head since Christmas time. Every dream, every fantasy starred the blond Slytherin and she could barely stand living in a state of constant arousal whenever she thought about him. The relief was fleeting. Once she caught sight of him, she would start all over again. Wanting.

The moment Professor Vector dismissed them, Hermione packed up her books and hightailed it out of there, not even pausing to make sure her way was clear when she practically ran into the hallway.

A whiff of  _the_ cologne hit her moments before she ran face-first into a hard chest. She bounced back and would have fallen to the floor if two strong hands had not reached out and grabbed her arms, steadying her.

"Whoa," a laughing voice said. "You alright there?"

Hermione looked up at the smiling face of Theodore Nott, one of the only Slytherins of her year that she had absolutely nothing to do with. Good or bad. The second their gaze met, something in her mind shifted and memories she couldn't quite remember inundated her.

Memories, dark and indistinct, swirled in her brain.

 _The classroom was dim, abandoned, and Hermione knew she was there for one reason and one reason alone. She was there to meet someone she wasn't at liberty to know out in the open._   _The shadowed boy leaned close to her face until she could feel the heat of his lips, so near, so tempting._

" _Liar." The husky voice echoed._

_His scent surrounded her, and she breathed deeply, aroused as he pulled away. Dancing around each other was the game and Hermione refused to lose. Just one taste, she remembered thinking, then I will be cured._

"Granger!" Malfoy barked sharply from behind her.

Blinking, she looked back and colored when his pointed gaze was on her hands which had clutched the front of Theodore Nott's robes. Hermione looked up at Nott in mortification, a way to apologize without words, perhaps, but he wasn't looking at her. He was looking at Malfoy in confusion and with a bit of panic.

"Sorry," she mumbled and moved away, smoothing his robes with her hands as if by habit.

Nott's heart raced under her fingers and she realized she was, in essence, caressing his pectorals over and over. Petting him as if he were Crookshanks. Pulling her hands back as if they were burned, she pivoted and took off down the hallway, wondering why she would be meeting Nott in empty classrooms and why Malfoy would care.

To say she was confused would be an understatement.

**HGHG**

Hermione thought the man in her memories was Theo. Draco clenched his hands into duel fists, agony ripping through his body. Swimming in a lake of fire would have been less painful.

"Mate," Theo said in a choked voice as she practically ran away.

"It's not your fault," Draco said mechanically, finally back in motion, walking the halls down to the Defense classroom. How was he going to share the same class with her when she thought the man that she liked was Theo?

Theo walked next to him tense and upset. "This doesn't mean anything,"

Draco didn't respond. He couldn't. How could she call  _his_  name out during an orgasm and think her mystery man was Theo? For the brightest witch of her age, she sure wasn't acting like it.  _To be fair_ , a small part of his brain protested,  _how would she know it was him and not Theo?_  Theo was wearing the one wearing Draco's cologne and was also the one who caught her from falling on her arse in the hallway. Of course, she would be confused. But a bigger part of him resented the fact that she could think that any man other than him could be the one.

Immediately he felt ashamed of himself. When he woke up that next morning, he vowed to forget what he saw, pretend it never happened both because he felt terrible for having witnessed something so personal without her knowledge and also because to her, they were less than nothing. He didn't want her to hate him if or better yet when her memories returned to her.

His confusing emotions weren't fair, but he couldn't help feeling as if the best part of his life was slipping farther and farther out of his grasp. In the end, wasn't their problems all his fault?

Draco and Theo walked into the Defense classroom and sat in front of the room next to the door as usual. Though Hermione sat in the center of the room next to Potter, she was staring unabashedly at Theo. To Theo's credit, he wasn't looking back, but the prick's back of the neck and ears were red. Draco stared, watching her watch Theo.

Maybe he was a masochist because he couldn't drag his eyes off her.

She was biting her bottom lip, a deep furrow between her brows. Probably thinking a mile a minute. She flicked her gaze to his and he took the opportunity to sink into her mind.

She watched the memory on replay, and it was just as he remembered with one glaring difference. The man was too shadowed, too dark, and ill-defined. There was no way she could know who the man was in that memory. Except, she remembered his cologne like a punch to the gut.

After the train ride with her, he had foregone wearing the scent, opting instead to rely on his bathing products to smell good. That should have been enough to curb her olfactory memory. He kept the bottle on his side table, unused, where it had always been kept.

Everything would have been fine, but last night, Blaise and Theo got into a breakdown, throwdown, fistfight which ended only because Snape broke them apart. They  _still_  weren't talking to each other. The dorm room had been trashed. And the expensive cologne? Blaise threw Theo over Draco's side table shattering the entire bottle onto his back. No matter how long Theo stood in the shower, the smell wouldn't dissipate.

Draco came back to himself as Snape slammed the door shut, sweeping into class, robes billowing. Shamefaced, Draco remembered where he was and what he had been tasked with. To use Legilimency in this classroom, in front of this man, was madness. And as much as he hated it, she was far safer believing her mystery man was Theo. Draco was a marked man anyway.

"Who can tell me three ways to escape a boggart without using  _Ridiculus_?" Snape said.

Draco sank his thoughts and his feelings back behind his brick wall, becoming a still lake frozen over during the winter.

He had a cabinet to focus on and couldn't afford distractions.

After Snape dismissed them for the day, he gathered his things, repressing his thoughts and feelings with everything he had.

"Maybe you should just tell her. Not about the  _thing_ , obviously, but about your feelings. Explain what you can," Theo mumbled, still embarrassed.

Malfoy glared at him and he withered, letting go of that thought quicker than a niffler after treasure in Gringotts.

"Coming to lunch today?" Theo asked feebly.

Draco shook his head.

"I'll see you later then?"

"Sure," Draco shrugged, turning away from Theo and shrugging his bag strap further on his shoulder. From one of the inner pockets, he pulled out a licorice wand and took a bite, the only sustenance he would have until dinner. That was fine though, he doubted he could have stomached eating anything else.

Today, he would forgo having Crabbe or Goyle stand guard at the door to the room of requirement. He didn't want to waste his time trying to convince them or track them down. Sometimes they could be belligerent, especially when there was food involved or not, in this instance.

It was just easier to do without them.

He paced in front of the doorless room, concentrating on where he needed to go. When the door appeared before him, he walked in, already reaching in his bag to pull out the latest book he had found that might be the answer to all his problems.  _What to Do When Your Furniture Goes Wonky by Trenton Brackenwild._

Flipping to the page his mother had flagged, he sat down in the aisle facing the cabinet and leaned back against the broken debris that he had made the day when he forced Hermione's memories into her locked core.

Forty-five minutes into his reading was when he struck gold. He was giddy, knowing he just had enough time to try this one spell. And if it worked, he could send his father good news for once. After referencing the book one more time, he straightened and pointed his wand at the wooden cabinet.

"Verso," he murmured, feeling in his bones the rightness of the spell.

There was no noticeable difference, no great clicking, nothing that would signify his accomplishment. That didn't matter. Draco was sure it had worked.

He opened the cabinet door and pushed a stone figure of Athena, goddess of wisdom, onto the middle shelf. Crossing his fingers, Draco closed the cabinet door, waited the required sixty seconds and marveled as the cabinet glowed blue for a moment, indicating that something had been sent back.

He wrenched open the door and covered his mouth with a shaking hand. Where Athena once stood, was a small feminine diamond ring from the Malfoy vaults, only about five carats or so. It was the first successful transfer. He clenched his fist around the jewel, blood rushing through his body. With a snap, he closed the door, punched the air, and shouted at the top of his lungs. Euphoria.

Once more the cabinet glowed blue and he opened it just as quickly. On the shelf where he found the ring laid a dead songbird. No one had to tell him that the bird had been alive up until the moment the cabinet closed from the other side.

He wasn't done, that was obvious. But he couldn't stop the hope that filled him. Maybe, just maybe, he would survive after all.

**HGHG**

January flowed into February with a haze of confusion. For the last several weeks, Hermione had tried just about everything to get Nott alone. But no matter where she went or how she tried, he was always either with someone else or would slip away without her noticing. If she didn't know better, she would have to assume that he was avoiding her on purpose. Why would he do that? Why was he a mere ghost of a memory, when her reaction to his scent was so visceral? Something else was going on. She was sure of it.

Another strange thing was Malfoy's extreme disconnect. During Arithmancy, he often did assignments on his own, only turning to her if there was no other choice. He had been remanded again and again for not working together with her, so much so that Hermione was frustrated. Why did he refuse her so harshly that he couldn't even complete a required assignment with her? He would rather receive a failing grade?

It was ridiculous!

"Hermione?" Harry prodded her with his foot while sitting in the overstuffed chair next to the fire, his essay for potions on his knee.

"Yeah?" she looked up at him from where she was laying on her stomach on the floor. Though her own work was spread out before her, it had been several minutes since she had worked on it, lapsing back into the conundrum of Theodore Nott.

Harry nodded with his head to one of the little first-year girls who stood a bit away trembling.

Hermione immediately sat up. "Everything okay?"

Without a word but with a shaking hand and a nod, the girl gave Hermione a small note.

"Thank you," she said gently, still looking at the pale face of the usually vibrant first year. "Are you sure you are fine? I can take you to Madame Pomfrey if you want me to,"

The girl took a deep steadying breath, clearly trying to overcome whatever it was that was bothering her. "Two weeks ago, Alice and I were walking to Charms and two older Slytherin boys were blocking our way."

"Did they hurt you?" Hermione asked sharply.

"No," she shook her head. "They were talking about you."

"Did you hear what they said?"

"The tall one with dark brown hair said that you had been trying to get him alone,"

Harry looked over at Hermione in surprise, both brows in his hairline. Hermione ignored him.

"Anything else?"

"He kept apologizing over and over to the blond one,"

"You mean Malfoy?" Harry asked darkly.

"I think so," Tabitha was a half-blood who had been raised much like Hermione. There wasn't much magic in the house as she was growing up and because of that, she was quite unaware of politics. She was just beginning to learn who was who. "I didn't think much of it at the time but today the brown-haired one gave me this and asked me to give it to you. Alice said I shouldn't. That the Slytherins hated you. That anything they gave to you would likely be poisoned."

Hermione unrolled the scroll and shook it, showing the terrified child that there was neither poison nor a jinx on the note. "See? Nothing to worry about,"

Tabitha nodded and smiled, relieved.

"Did they say anything else?" Harry asked, obviously trying to think of who the other Slytherin was.

Tabitha shook her head.

"Thanks, Tabitha," Hermione said in dismissal. She got so much more information than anyone else did out of the overheard conversation and yet, it confused her even more. Now she had confirmation that Nott was indeed avoiding her on purpose. But why in seven hells would Nott constantly apologize to Malfoy?

The reality was that Hermione had been thinking of this for a long time and she was certain that her memories had been repressed. By who though? Nott? But that didn't feel quite right. Had Malfoy repressed her memories because Nott couldn't bear to do it?

There was one thing she knew with absolute certainty and that was that if she wasn't in love with her mystery man, she was well on her way. And she wouldn't know more unless she could trigger more of her memories. There was a great chance that she would have to be around him to do it.

Hermione gathered all of her stuff and left Harry's suspicious gaze behind, climbing the tower steps to her dorm before giving in and reading the message Nott had sent her.

Lavender was on her bed, Parvati next to her, rubbing her back. Lavender had obviously been crying but Hermione smiled tightly and sat on her own bed, drawing the curtains tightly shut before whispering  _Lumos_.

She tossed her bag on the foot of her bed, forgotten, and unfurled the letter.

_This is so stupid. I can't stand to watch it for one more second. Meet me in the Charms corridor, third room on the right. Sunday after dinner._

_Nott_

Not what she was expecting but at least it looked like he was done avoiding her. Finally, she would get some answers.

**HGHG**

"You did what?!" Draco yelled. Theo stood next to Draco's bed both hands on his hips, a no-nonsense look on his face.

"I sent her a letter to meet me in that unused classroom on the Charms floor. If you aren't going to clear this up, I have to do something. I can't keep avoiding her! She is damn good at tracking me down. Yesterday she waited for me outside of that little bathroom, the nice one with the standing shower and glass surround on the ground floor…"

"Focus!"

"Right.  _Two hours_  I sat in there reading my book waiting for her to give up. If Marcus hadn't come in to grab a shower before patrols, I would have sat in there all night. I'm sure of it!"

"You are a smart guy, you can handle Hermione Granger,"

"Do you even hear yourself?" Theo yelled, for once his cool facade broke and his face scrunched up with fury. "You are constantly angry with me, depressed because she thinks she has a thing with me. I know you keep thinking about the moment she had her hands on me, her face buried in my robes. It's killing you!"

Draco looked murderous and both boys were standing now, toe to toe.

Theo took a deep breath, calming himself. "This way, I can tell her it is not me and I can also keep the truth of you from her."

"Say one word to her and she will figure it out. I can see the spell unravel a tiny bit more day by day. Any moment and every sacrifice I made would go, poof. Up in smoke. I feel like I am drowning because not only is the clock ticking closer and closer to my next punishment from the Dark Lord, I have to finish before she remembers it all. Either way, she will hate me but this way, I'll at least be alive for her to practice her hexes on."

"Mate," Theo shook his head.

Draco's mask was firmly back in place. "Don't do this,"

"Stop me then,"

"Theo!"

"No! You want me to back out, to cancel on her, fine. Make me."

"I'm not going to force you," Draco flopped back onto his bed and covered his eyes with his forearm. "You know I wouldn't do that,"

"Let me do this for you."

"And what if I asked you to pretend to be the one. What would you do?"

Theo opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish, sure he had heard Draco wrong. "What? You don't mean that,"

"She would be safe with you,"

"You are kidding me! Being my girl is no better than being yours! Do you think my father would be accepting? Do you even remember what happened to my mother?!"

"Not forever, just… just until I am done."

"Yes, I am sure that scenario will make Hermione hate you less," Theo said sarcastically and watched his best friend flinch. He softened his voice and leaned against Draco's bedpost. "Imagine this then. Say we do that and somehow, we convince Hermione Granger that I am her mystery lover. What if she falls in love with me? What if I fall for her? What would you do then?"

"Throw your bachelor party, I guess,"

"You bloody wanker! I would be called out, facing a deadly duel by dawn,"

"You are a much better man than me. She deserves someone who hasn't thrown nasty slurs in her face since her first year of Hogwarts. All I have done is hurt her and hurt her over and over again."

"Yeah, but mate, it wasn't me she was snogging, now was it? Despite all of that, she still wanted you,"

"For someone so smart…" Draco mumbled a fond smile tugging on his lips.

Theo grinned, flashing his shiny teeth.

**HGHG**

The next day dawned brightly with the first bit of real sunshine since the fall. Hermione was already up, already dressed waiting for the moment she knew the Great Hall would open for breakfast. It was times like this where she felt the fracture of her friendships the most, a wry smile on her lips.

It was March first, Ron's seventeenth birthday, and they were still not talking to each other. And for all his prattishness and immaturity, she missed him. Missed the way the three of them were when they weren't fighting. She was tired. Tired of fighting with them, tired of being angry. She knew that if he walked up to her today and just went back to normal, she would accept the unspoken apology, even if he never meant to give her one.

The Great Hall was nearly bare when she walked in. Three from Hufflepuff, one from Ravenclaw, and Draco Malfoy. Upon seeing the last in the room, she paused, eyes glued to his back and she swore that he had stiffened. It was amazing to her that he knew she was there. Then again, it could have been from the draft of the shutting door.

Hermione resumed her easy gait, reaching for hot tea the moment Gryffindor table came within reach. Once the first satisfying pull hit her stomach, she settled onto the bench, pulling out her potions text. Determined that for once she would beat Harry in the coming week. It was no secret between them that she despised the Half-Blood Prince and his stupid cheater book. She did not need the insane scribblings in the margins to make her potions perfect. Application and practice were the seasonings for success.

She was a third of the way through next week's potions curricula when Tabitha and Alice ran in and grabbed her by the shoulder. Her tea spilled all down the front of her light blue shirt and she stood, gasping, pulling the hot soaked material away from her body. Steam rose from her shirt, meeting the cooler tender skin underneath.

"I'm sorry," Alice said quickly. "But you have to come right now!"

"What is going on?" Hermione asked, watching as Tabitha grabbed her books and her bag from the floor, shoving everything inside unceremoniously.

"We will tell you on the way! Hurry!"

Briefly, as the girls pushed her out of the Hall, she looked up. Malfoy was staring at her, pupils blown wide. Dark lashes framed his grey eyes and she immediately thought how unfair it was that he had such long, dark, curling lashes when he was so very blond. His eyes quickly changed to curiosity with a touch of what she could only describe as fear. Theo was there then, leaning over him, talking to him in a hurried whisper but his eyes were on hers. Always on her with such intensity. She pulled her gaze off of him.

Tabitha closed the door behind them once they exited the hall. "I will take your bag to your dorm if you want,"

"There was an accident. Ron Weasley was poisoned! He's okay but he is in the Hospital Wing," Alice said shooting her friend a look as if to say, get to the important bit.

"What?" Hermione fairly screeched and left the young girls behind, bag forgotten in their hands. She sprinted up those stairs as if she were aiming to break a national speed record. The staircases were on point, moving with her as if she and the castle were both parts of the same entity. She didn't even slow as she reached the infirmary doors, instead, blowing through them as if startling sick people was a nonexistent consideration.

Harry was there, shaking, sitting next to Ron's cot. Ron was white as a sheet, answering all the questions that Madame Pomfrey asked. Both the Headmaster and Slughorn were there talking amongst themselves, Snape stood apart, silently off to the side. They had stared at her when she slammed through the doors. Giving them nothing more than a weak smile of apology, she walked instead of running to Ron's bedside, aware that her shirt was still wet and clinging to her front. It hadn't been a consideration once she had been told Ron was in the Hospital Wing but now, she tried to ignore the embarrassment.

"'Mione," Ron said with a lopsided smile.

She sat on the chair opposite Harry's and reached forward, taking Ron's hand in between both of hers.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, eyeing her clinging shirt with interest, pink tinging his cheeks and the tip of his ears.

"Oh, Ron," she said and dropped her head in relief. For now, she ignored his roving gaze. She would address that some other time. Hopefully when she wasn't so confused about her own love life. "I'm sorry! The whole fight was so stupid to last so long,"

"It's my fault, really," he said sincerely, looking into her eyes this time. She nodded. Everything was forgiven. She looked up and smiled at him.

Hermione's hand was still clasped with his when Lavender flew in. She froze, looking at their twined hands in horror. "Why are  _you_  here?" she demanded of Hermione.

"I'm his friend,"

"Don't make me laugh! You haven't spoken in months!" Lavender's voice shook as if she was forcing herself not to sob.

"That just proves we were fighting, not that we have given up our friendship! He almost died. How petty would I be to still carry my anger after that?" Hermione shot back. Harry and Ron were her only family now, and since Ron had just made up with her, she wasn't about to let him walk out of her life. The only brothers that she had ever had. Best friends right to the very end.

"Lavender," Ron said and winced as her tear-filled eyes overflowed prettily.

"Won-Won?"

He winced again and Hermione tried to draw her hand back, feeling so damn uncomfortable that she could barely stand it. Ron wouldn't let her go, squeezing her hand tighter. Dumbledore, she noticed, was watching avidly between the two as if he had been waiting for months the culmination of this relationship. As if they were celebrity personalities gossiped about in the rags. Idly, she wondered if the Hogwarts professors did keep a tally on their students for entertainment, before immediately dismissing the idea. They wouldn't.

"It's over Lavender," he said softly. Clearly, he was uncomfortable but at least he told her straight out. Hermione pitied Lavender. It wasn't a wonderful moment for him to break up with her. So many witnesses.

Lavender's throat caught a sob and she flew out of the infirmary as quickly as she came, like her very own mini tornado.

Ron slumped against his pillows as if he had just run a marathon, looking relieved. He ran his thumb over Hermione's knuckles, and she was finally able to pull her hand out of his grasp. That is all their battered friendship needed, more complications.

There was more flurry at the door as Molly and Arthur bustled in with Professor McGonagall, Ginny on their heels. Hermione stood and vacated her spot next to Ron. Molly stopped to smile at her and pat her cheek in affection before taking Hermione's place next to the bed.

Harry waited for her as she rounded the bed, and looped his arm around her waist, leaving the frantic family with the professors. Hermione put her arm around Harry too, feeling her friend struggling not to come apart at the seams. Another one of his important people was in danger and with the loss of Sirius being so raw, she knew he needed the comfort of a friend.

"What happened?" she asked once they were back in the hall.

"It was so stupid! This morning I was searching through my trunk and I had these chocolates from Romilda Vane. She gave them to me around Christmas time,"

Hermione nodded encouragingly, staying quiet. He needed to get the story out and she would be a willing and active listener.

"Well, they ended up on the floor in my search and Ron thought they had fallen from his pile of birthday presents. You know how he is with food… dug right in! Next thing I know, he is asking me about her and telling me how much he loved her. I didn't know right away what was wrong, but it was soon made clear that he had sampled more than one of the spiked chocolates. So, I took him to Slughorn's office. I know this is going to sound insensitive, but I had hoped that this was the perfect excuse to get that memory out of him."

"Not a bad idea actually," Hermione said. "Didn't go well?"

"Never got around to it. Slughorn mixed up an antidote then poured us each a finger of Meade that he meant to gift to Dumbledore to 'celebrate'. That was the excuse he used anyway. Ron took the first drink, using it to fortify himself or something. He began choking and foaming at the mouth. He stopped breathing and Slughorn just stood there. Luckily, during the last potions class, I had handed in a bezoar. I ran to Slughorn's bag and pulled it out and shoved it down Ron's throat. It saved his life,"

"I guess that bookwas useful. Just this once," Hermione muttered grudgingly. Harry snorted and squeezed her waist, bumping his chin lightly on her shoulder.

"Nice shirt," he sniggered, eyeing the fabric that had begun to dry strangely.

Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled. Things were almost back to normal. And it felt good.

**HGHG**

Draco followed Hermione up to the Infirmary, following the same path as she, utilizing the castle's desire to give way to her. Earlier in the Great Hall, Theo had come to him the moment the news broke, guessing of what it would mean to him. The Meade had been his final out of control attempt to take out the Headmaster by means other than the one approved by the Dark Lord. He hadn't gone past the doors of the Infirmary, though, watching her approach the Weasel's bedside between each swing.

He was relieved to see the Weasel alive though he wouldn't ever admit it. To have his death on his hands… he wasn't cut out for the kind of servitude the Death Eaters were called to perform. Murder just didn't sit right. It felt irreparable, a line that once crossed he could never return.

He leaned back against the wall a little way down the hall and disillusioned himself. It wouldn't be nearly good enough to hide from Dumbledore and Snape, but perhaps the others would dismiss the strange haze that would blend him into his surroundings. On second thought, maybe he should find a nook. Then again, he shouldn't even be there.

Weasel's girlfriend hurried right past him, focused entirely on her destination. Understandable, he thought, and it wasn't long after she burst in that she ran right back out, hands covering her face. Draco's brows hit his hairline, shocked. Had the ginger twat dumped his girlfriend on his sickbed? Classy.

Draco had nearly made up his mind to leave when the Weasley parents rushed in with McGonagall, followed by their youngest. None of them looked left or right, only focused on getting to the infirmary. He took a deep breath, turned away, and began walking away when he heard Hermione talking with Potter. He swung back around and watched as the door closed behind them, arms intertwined around each other's waist.

Bile clawed up his throat; acid burning the flesh from within. There was nothing he hated more than the close comradery that Hermione and Potter seemed to share. Now it was in his face when they passed him, not even suspicious glances shot in his direction.

He heard everything they said but fought for control as he watched the other boy touch her, squeeze her, and pull her closer. And when Potter lowered his face to his shoulder, Draco was two seconds away from hexing him. The only thing that stopped him was the thought that her other friend was in the infirmary because of him. He couldn't land Potter in there too. Although, it didn't stop the confusing rush of hate and hope that filled him.

The smooth white flesh of his forearm burned, and he clutched the spot desperately, knowing once he lifted the disillusion, he would see an ugly black brand. His master's mark. A skull with an undulating snake slithering out of the jaws of the skull. Though his master called him, he knew that he wasn't expected to leave Hogwarts. The pain was a punishment, a warning. The Dark Lord had already heard of this second disastrous attempt and he was not pleased.

Draco wondered how long his master would force a call before letting the tattoo disappear back into his smooth pristine skin. Until then, he would have to wear long sleeves and bathe alone, with wards that rivaled those of the Manor. He did not have to be told of the consequences of someone else seeing the Dark Mark.

**HGHG**

"Well?" Dumbledore asked as Snape collapsed in his usual chair in the Headmaster's office. The dour professor made a show of looking around, making sure that no red-haired ingrates were in sight.

"He is using the summons to give Draco a warning. The pain will remind him of his failures so far and is supposed to focus him back on his task, whatever that is."

"How does he expect the boy to do what he needs to do when he is in pain?"

"I'll take that as a rhetorical question," Snape snarked and dreamed longingly of the vintage single malt FireWhisky that sat warm and welcoming on his sideboard.

Dumbledore sighed and shook his sleeve down, inspecting the blacked appendage with detached interest. "It's progressing at a faster rate now,"

Snape unfolded himself from the chair and drew his wand at the same time. He prodded the older wizard's shoulder with the tip, snarling under his breath as he sang a counter curse. After a few minutes, he quieted and said, "The curse is breaking through my barriers. It will not hold much longer. Three months at the most."

"That will have to be enough time to prepare Harry for what he must do," Dumbledore said grimly.

Snape smacked his hand on the desktop. "Why don't you tell me? I can move much more freely than he can. I can do what needs to be done. Haven't I proved my loyalty? Don't you trust me?"

"We've talked about this before, Severus. It's not that I don't trust you, but I don't intend to put all my eggs in a basket that often dangles of the arm of Voldemort."

Snape looked away, mutinous. Hadn't he proven time and time again that he was able to keep secrets safe from anyone, including his master?

Dumbledore sighed. "Come to my office on Saturday next, Severus, and you will not be disappointed in my faith in you," Snape looked slightly modified and sat back in his seat in front of the Headmaster's desk. "On a more pleasant note, the portraits in the Arithmancy corridor think that Miss Granger has remembered some of the memories that Mr. Malfoy repressed."

Snape rolled his upper lip with derision. "How is that pleasant?"

Dumbledore smiled and ran his fingers through his beard. "We may not have lost him. Not yet. Not if there is still a chance that the two of them can work things out,"

"You are completely daft. What woman would give a second chance to a man who did that to her?"

"If it were Lily who repressed your memories, would you forgive her?" Dumbledore asked pointedly.

Snape took a deep breath and looked away. They both knew he would have forgiven her a thousand times over. No matter the infraction, no matter the price he had to pay, no matter the betrayal. But he also remembered that she hadn't forgiven him. Not even when he debased himself by sleeping outside her Common Room portrait for a week. Even to the day she died, he remained unforgiven.


	10. Liar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to CJRed who alpha read this story.
> 
> Follow me on my Tumblr, Jessiyl for chapter by chapter teasers. If you are into that kind of thing.
> 
> Updated every Thursday!

**Chapter Ten- Liar**

For a Saturday, the castle was quiet even though curfew was still hours away. Severus stalked the halls single-mindedly headed for the Headmaster's office. The old man was going to crack open his impenetrable vault and let him in on some of his tightly held intel. The time had finally come that Snape had been waiting for, for so long. Details pivotal for ending the war would finally be in his grasp.

When he walked into the Headmaster's office, Dumbledore was pacing, agitated.

"Severus," he nodded in greeting, stopping now that another person entered his office.

Snape nodded back but his attention was held by the gargantuan pensieve that took up a significant portion of the office. It held his attention and he couldn't help but stare at it. What did the old man need the pensive for? Dumbledore stopped suddenly and twisted around so that he was also looking at the pensieve.

"There are things that Harry will need to know when the war is near its end," Dumbledore said. "I think it will be safe to tell him when Voldemort starts to protect his snake, Nagini above all else."

"Nagini?" Snape said wondering what that blasted snake had to do with anything important.

Dumbledore nodded vigorously. "Yes, when he stops using her to carry out his wishes and keeps her close, that will be the time to tell Harry."

"Tell him what?" Snape asked, cutting his black eyes to the Headmaster who was acting as if he already regretted divulging so much even though Severus felt it wasn't nearly enough.

"Tell him that on the night Lord Voldemort tried to kill him, when Lily cast her own life between them as a shield, the Killing Curse rebounded upon Lord Voldemort, and a fragment of Voldemort's soul was blasted apart from the whole, and latched itself onto the only living soul left in that collapsing building. Part of Lord Voldemort lives inside Harry, and it is that which gives him the power of speech with snakes, and a connection with Lord Voldemort's mind that he has never understood. And while that fragment of soul, unmissed by Voldemort, remains attached to and protected by Harry, Lord Voldemort cannot die."

Snape looked at the elderly wizard that appeared to wilt before his very eyes. "Let me get this straight. Are you telling me that Potter has to die?"

"And Voldemort must be the one to do it. That is essential,"

Snape could feel the vein in his neck bulge as rage such as he hadn't felt since Lily began dating James Fucking Potter all those years earlier took him over. He dialed it back slightly, hoping he had misunderstood something along the way. "I thought we were keeping him safe. For Lily,"

"We have protected him because it was essential to teach him, raise him, to let him try his strength. The connection between them grows ever stronger and if I am not wrong, he has suspected it himself. By the time he seeks out Voldemort to meet his death, he will have arranged matters so that it would mean Voldemort's final end."

Snape nearly choked on the bile that rose in his throat. Lily's son… The child she had loved so much that she gave her own life to protect him… the boy who looked so much like his father that Snape could barely stand it… and yet all these years, for her, he had protected him as best as he could, trusting that Dumbledore and he were both on the same page. Only to find out that was unequivocally not the case.

"You kept him alive just so that he could die at the right moment?" Snape sneered disgustedly. In the back of his mind, he wondered if Dumbledore was doing this on purpose, making him despise the old man enough to ease the thought of his murder.  _He wouldn't do that,_  he thought immediately,  _but then again… Albus was batshit crazy at times._

"Don't tell me you care for the boy, Severus," Dumbledore looked up at him with a piercing gaze.

"For  _him_?" Snape shouted. " _Expecto Patronum_!"

His silver doe danced around the room, sweet and delicate, and Dumbledore watched with a soft and tender smile. As if he alone knew the hearts of every single person he manipulated in the course of the war and that they had met his expectations. Once the doe faded, Dumbledore turned back to Severus. Tears filled his eyes and threatened to spill onto his wrinkled cheeks.

"After all this time?"

"Always," whispered Snape. *

**HGHG**

Ron's recovery was slow, and Madame Pomfrey was taking extra time to make sure that he wouldn't relapse from any adverse or latent effects. Being the center of so much attention seemed to agree with Ron as he seemingly soaked it up like a flower turning his face to the sun. Hermione had visited him often, but could only stomach so much of the blow-by-blow, and left him to regale Seamus and Dean with his ordeal for what seemed like the hundredth time.

With that part of her life back to normal, she turned her thoughts back on Nott and his letter. The night Ron had been poisoned, she had sent Nott a note of her own, postponing their little tête-à-tête. Initially, she was going to wait until Ron was fully recovered. Since that seemed to be dragging on, she decided to go ahead anyway. She quickly sent another note, moving their meeting to Sunday.

Finally, she was going to figure out what the heck was going on and then everything would be as it ought.

There was too much going on now that Harry's lessons with Dumbledore began to grow complicated. And she couldn't afford to be distracted by a man that may or may not want her. The war was turning darker and nastier and she felt this sense of impending doom as if everything was on the cusp of imploding.

Hermione slowed as she approached the unused classroom. The only thing that she heard was the rustle of a turning page and peeked around the door to see how Theo passed the time waiting for her. Theo sat on one of the unused desks, his face buried in a book. For a few moments, she watched him with the hope that it would knock something loose in her brain. Something that would make her say,  _ah-ha_! Then she would relish the glorious rush of her returning memories. However, there was no great revelation, no sense of intimacy or affection when she looked at him. Dispirited, Hermione knocked on the door.

He looked up and smiled, laying the book face down on the desk to hold his spot, weakening the spine. She cringed internally at the sight. "Finally,"

"Shouldn't I be the one to say that?" she snorted then held up the note he had sent to request her presence. "What is this?"

"The first bit of honesty in months," he snarked.

It was refreshing to think that he was now going to come clean. "And that would be?"

He snorted, making a huge show out of lifting his book and marking his page, before stowing the book in the bag that rested on the floor at his feet.

Hermione rolled her eyes and walked closer, moving into his space. He sat up and leaned back while she advanced closer, moving between his open legs.

"What are you doing?" he squeaked, flinching as she made contact. No longer was he focused on putting away all of his things. In fact, he looked terrified and dropped his bag on the floor with a loud thump.

"Testing a theory," she mumbled, and a vague tickle prodded at the back of her mind before floating away. Desperate to grab it back, she pressed her face into his chest, inhaling.

But it was wrong - all wrong. The scent she craved was missing and she felt nothing even though she was practically in his arms. No memories came flooding back, no great epiphany, no wondrous love narrative beckoned from deep within her brain.

"Merlin, Granger," he sputtered, put his hands on her shoulders, and pushed her away. He looked alarmed and upset as if she was the one who did something wrong. But she would bet her wand arm that she didn't repress her own memories. That meant that there was a good chance that Nott knew who did it and why.  _There better be a damn good reason for it, too,_  Hermione thought,  _I can be downright vindictive when I feel wronged._ And boy did she feel wronged.

"Why am I here?" she asked, giving up, and taking another six or so steps back before hitting another desk with the bottom of her bum. Sliding back onto the smooth surface, she crossed her legs and gripped the edge with both hands.

A tic appeared in his cheek as he gathered his thoughts. "The cologne wasn't mine,"

"Excuse me?" Out of everything he could have said, why start with that? Unless… unless he knew the scent was her trigger.

"I said the cologne wasn't mine,"

"Who does it belong to, then?"

"I can't tell you that,"

"Why not?"

"He asked me not to,"

"Why? So he won't trigger any more of my memories? Were you even aware that he used a memory spell on me?"

"What was that?" he said as if he hadn't heard her and was starting to look shifty-eyed as if he was really rethinking their meeting or trying to convince her that he didn't know anything about anything at all.

"Were you aware that your friend used a memory spell on me?" she pressed. He knew something. She just knew it.

"Yes?" he squeaked.

She leaned forward and pinned him with her stare. Slowly, she drew out her wand and tapped it lightly against her thigh. "Are you admitting it or asking me a question?"

He sighed. "Look, it's complicated. It isn't just a matter of using magic on you or being together or not. This is serious with life or death consequences. I can't tell you much, but I can tell you this… I've never met anyone as fucked up over a girl as he is with you. And you were like that with him, too. Before." He stopped talking and gestured with his right hand as if to say, before the memory spell. "Your safety is one of his top priorities. So, before you run around the school trying to unravel your memories, remember this, I was there after he used the memory charm. I saw what it did to him. Let him protect you both. He already took the hit and I think it would kill him if he had to do it again,"

"I am not unable to protect myself," she protested, her heart lurching. It was a rush knowing that someone liked her so fervently. She felt powerful, sexy, wanted. Also outraged. How dare he - whoever he is - make such a decision to protect her without her permission! That is... if she hadn't given her permission. And she wasn't entirely sure she didn't. But she was reasonably certain.

"He knows that," Theo murmured quietly.

"But?"

Theo tugged at his hair in frustration. Even if she didn't know that Draco was the one, she knew now that Theo wasn't her mystery man. And she knew that Theo knew who was. He couldn't take much more of her dogged ways. "What can I say that will make you stop searching? You are torturing him. When he saw you in my arms, sniffing me in that hallway, I thought he was going to go insane. Give him a break. Take this one small thing on faith. I'm begging you," Suddenly he stopped and closed his eyes. He knew then that he had said entirely too much.

"He saw me run into you?" she muttered quietly to herself, working out what that truly meant and nearly choked. There was only one other person there. "Oh my God,"

"Couldn't just leave it alone, could you, Sweetheart?" Draco Malfoy said from the doorway behind her.

"I will just give you two a moment," Theo mumbled and neither one of them noticed the exact moment that they were alone. Both of them completely focused only on each other. Draco stalked toward the desk that she sat on and grasped the edges on either side of her hips, leaning close.

Hermione was dazed. Even though he had forgone his cologne, his natural scent enticed her. Encouraged her to lean in to take a sniff. To bury her face in the cradle of his shoulder. With each breath, she fought her desire to do just that and wondered how she had ever thought that Nott or anyone else could have been the man from her fleeting memories. Of course, her mystery love interest was Draco Malfoy. Of course, it was the man she had been fantasizing about for weeks. Danger and desire intermingled until all rational thoughts of who exactly was seducing her dissolved into insignificance.

"It's you." she murmured, breath ghosting across his cheek. Slowly, she was coming back to herself. The suddenness of the realization had taken her senses away but now that she wasn't completely reeling from the revelation, she was starting to grow angry. "So why did you do it? The memory modification or whatever,"

"I didn't want to," he whispered.

"So Nott said," Hermione said acerbically.

"I… I…" he stuttered and closed his eyes. "I can't tell you,"

The tightness around his mouth made her think that he expected her backlash. Waiting in suspended animation for his just deserts to be delivered by her hand. A slap or a curse. Perhaps, something even worse. Hermione canted her head at looked at him curiously. The Draco Malfoy that she had grown up with would have never let her decide his fate or punish him or even allow himself to come out of a skirmish as anything but the winner. But this Draco Malfoy was not that cruel little boy anymore, hurling insults at her and her friends in the hallways. Maybe if she showed him a little bit of trust, she would thank herself in the future.

After all, this could only go two ways. Good or bad. And the only way it could be good is if she took this first leap of faith. It made her nervous, for sure, but she was going to try this way first. She had been falling in love with him for months, since the beginning of the year she suspected. Even before her memories were repressed. Using that logic, it was really herself she was trusting here.

Compassion and annoyance battled inside her divided mind. Just because she was going to give him the benefit of the doubt didn't mean that she had no problems with his method of protection. Her furious reaction was tempered the longer he stood waiting for whatever punishment she decided to lay on him. But who was she to criticize him for protecting her in a similar way that she had protected her parents? At least he gave her a way to remember. She left her parents with no way back.

Guilt and sadness overtook her anger and selfishly, she wanted to lean on him. Let him soothe away her heartache. A memory, strong and clear, rose to the forefront of her mind.

_Hermione sucked in a surprised breath, as he reached for her and she could feel her heart beating furiously in her chest. The soft pad of his thumb brushed her bottom lip and she couldn't pull her eyes from his. He was handsome and so focused on its path and she drew in a deep breath. His scent was so strong, so seductive that she could almost taste him. The thought pounded through her veins making her lips tingle and before she knew what she was doing, her tongue had quested from her mouth to caress his bold appendage._

_The moment her tongue met flesh, his breath caught, and he looked at her as if she held his personal heaven._

_He was salty and clean with just a hint of apple. But the best part wasn't his taste or scent. The best part was looking up at his face and seeing_ that _expression. The one that claimed her, vowed protection, and desire so profound it was instinctual need._

_Draco's breath came out with a whoosh, bathing her face with his fruity breath. She could tell that her impulsive lick had him undone and something within her roared its approval. She felt powerful. Sexy. Wanted._

_Then his hand was gone, and his lips were on hers, taking control. His exuberance was easily matched by hers and all thoughts were chased out as his lips coaxed hers. Licks and sucks enamored her as he made sure she was well snogged. His tongue joined hers and he tasted her in the same way she had him. Each moment sweeter than the last._

_Vaguely, she felt his hand at the back of her head, buried in her curls, holding her head in place. Hermione raised her hands to his chest, slowly sliding her way up to his shoulders. If this was what she could expect from him, she wasn't sure she could watch him walk away._

The memory faded away and he was still standing there, inches away with his eyes shut. Waiting for whatever she felt that he deserved. She reached out with her fingers and brushed his jaw with the pads of her fingers. Her heart still pounded with the memory and she struggled to reconcile what she remembered with what she knew now. Draco flinched the moment her fingers made contact with his skin and his eyes flew open. He looked amazed. Her fingers were tentative yet tender as she explored the dips and curves of his beautiful face.

He pressed his face into her hand, brushing his lips against her wrist and her pulse went crazy. The heat of his body enveloped her, and her breath caught.

"What  _can_  you tell me?" she asked as her fingers traced his lips. Still struggling to bring herself out of that memory of that amazing kiss.

"I can promise you that I will tell you everything. Someday. But right now, we are in too much danger, you and I, and though I wish things were different. They are not." He said looking truly remorseful. "I'm sorry. So fucking sorry. The moment I had cast the spell, I wished I could undo everything. I would rather have torn my own heart, still beating, out of my chest than hurt you like that. I've made so many mistakes this year, I could drown in them. One after another. Some old. Some new. And every time I cross the line, I feel you slipping farther and farther away from me. I don't know if I will ever be able to make it up to you, but I am willing to try. If you want me, that is,"

"What is it that you want from me?" she murmured. She had to be sure that trusting him was the right thing to do. That he would only hurt her heart, if things didn't work out the way she was beginning to hope they would, and not cost Harry, Ron, or her their lives.

"What do you mean?"

"What is this for you?" She asked, gesturing back and forth between them. "Is this a chance to give your father the two-finger salute? Am I a distraction? Are you trying to hurt Harry by getting close to me?"

"No!" He replied immediately and vehemently. That was pretty decisive in her book.

"No?" she challenged. Turning her knuckles white from how hard she was clenching the edges of the desk. But his eyes flashed and his jaw clenched at the challenge. Raw power flowed from his indignant body. The strong magical pulse caressed her like a bolt of low voltage electricity, more a tingle than anything, and she tensed her thighs, struggling to retain a semblance of control and not give in to her heightening arousal.

"No." Draco slid one of his hands over hers. Caressing her knuckles with his fingers, he coaxed her grip to loosen and once he had her hand in his, he lifted her palm back to his face. Inhaling as if her scent alone calmed him. To be honest, it was the most peaceful he looked for a long time. "I've liked you for a long time and denied it for just as long. You were an unobtainable desire that I felt that I had to lock away. Until the beginning of this year, anyway. You quite literally swept me off my feet," He paused and chuckled darkly in remembrance. Hermione couldn't help but lean closer, mesmerized.

"I did?" she asked doubtfully.

"Uh-huh," he smiled. It wasn't pained or forced or angry for the first time. Heat pooled in her center and she couldn't tear her gaze off of his face. Feeling rather blindsided, she couldn't help the low moan that escaped her throat.

That last sound must have been too much for him because he grabbed the nape of her neck and pulled her in, capturing her lips in between his own. Excitement exploded in her stomach and she reached up and fisted his robes, lips matching, demanding. His tongue swept into her mouth, caressing her tongue, tasting her, possessing her. A desperate desire.

Dragging in a breath through her nose, she dived back in, pulling him closer and closer, until his groin was cradled between her legs. His hands were on her thighs, pulling them around his hips as he rocked into her core.

"Merlin!" she said, breaking the kiss and threw her head back, arching her back to press her breasts into his nicely defined chest. His mouth began to trail down her neck, devouring her, as he leaned over her. Frantically, she began pushing his robes off his shoulders, demanding that he bare his skin. Hermione could feel his smirk against her neck as he shrugged out of the heavy robes, letting them pool on the floor at his feet.

"Yesss," she hissed, immediately working on popping his buttons. He chuckled darkly, voice dropping an octave with desire. His clever fingers were busy sliding up the smooth expanse of her thigh, only stopping when he had a handful of her bum in each hand. Thrusting his hips against hers, had her eyes flying up to his. Adoration and need filled their depths.

She bit her bottom lip and rolled her hips experimentally, and a flush of arousal drenched her knickers as she watched as he struggled to keep himself under control. Hermione reached for the placket of his trousers.

"No," he murmured. "Not like this. Not until you have all your memories back. Not until you are safe,"

"That's very noble but I may die if you leave me like this," she whispered, voice trembling with need. Her need for him had been spiraling out of control since Christmas. And maybe even earlier than that. She let her fingers trail over the placket of his trousers.

He smirked at her, captured her wrist, and rocked against her core again. "I didn't say I would leave you unsatisfied,"

"Oh?" she mumbled, focused on the glorious motion of his body rolling against hers.

Draco Malfoy detached himself from her grip and fell to his knees, moving her legs to drape over his shoulders. Her hands flew behind her to hold her up as he pulled her bum to the edge of the desk. Then his mouth was licking over her wet knickers and she just about died of bliss. It was one of the most amazing experiences of her life.

Pulling back, he hooked his fingers in the side elastic of her green silk knickers, slid them down her legs, and stuffed the small bit of fabric deep in his trouser pocket. In seconds, his hands were back on her thighs, guiding them to frame his head again, arms wrapped tightly around their circumference. His hot tongue slid between her folds; the tip teasing her clit. Her skirt shoved unceremoniously above her hips.

"Fuck," Hermione gasped, and he let out a shocked laugh.

"Love your naughty mouth," he murmured before wrapping his lips around her engorged bundle of nerves.

"God, oh, god," she chanted. His mouth was skilled, suckling and licking her most private of places. He withdrew one of his hands and she shuddered at the loss, undulating her hips more with the freedom. Nearly lost in the haze of her bliss, she felt one of his fingers prod her slit and slowly fill her grasping quim.

"I'm coming," she whispered, thighs shaking as his finger moved in and out of her, his mouth continued to suck and nibble her pulsating flesh. She was undone, gone, lost in a haze of euphoria. Stars floated across her vision and she thought that she would blackout from the intensity.

The number of times she came on her own fingers over the last year was innumerable. But the orgasm he coaxed from her was extraordinary and she knew she would never be the same again.

Draco pulled back, grinning with pride as he wiped her shining release off his face. He ran his hands over the tops of her thighs and stood, bending just enough to kiss her.

Their first kiss had been needy and desperate and a direct contrast to the sweet caress now. On this occasion, he took his time learning the taste of her. Sweeping his tongue inside to explore her warm mouth. On his tongue, she tasted herself and felt a stirring of more heat in her center. Her already intense wet dreams would now focus on Draco Malfoy with his face buried between her legs. And oh, she wanted more. She wanted to push his trousers down, take him in her hand, and tease his salty head. Repaying him lick for glorious lick.

"Goodnight, Sweetheart," he murmured with one last lingering kiss.

"What about you?" She asked. A small smile of invitation on her lips. He closed his eyes and groaned, that wonderful smile on his face. The one that she could fall in love with. The one that was true and honest and open. Her heart pounded a stuttering, twisting rhythm. It hurt just a little bit to look at it. As if she were looking directly into the sun.

"Can you, just this once, let me be a good man?" he asked, still smiling at her.

"What does one have to do with the other?" She snorted.

He chuckled softly and ran his fingers through his hair. "I am trying to do the right thing here,"

"And sucking your cock is wrong?"

"Oh, Fucking, fuck," he breathed. First, he took one step back then two and three and closed his eyes. "As much as I would really like that, I want your offer to be fully aware. I want to watch you without the heavy guilt in my stomach, screaming that I was taking advantage of you. Offer that again after you've regained your memories and I shall not deny you."

"I fully consent now," She murmured and slid off the desk before taking a step in his direction. His eyes flicked open and watched her as if she were a deadly cobra about to strike and he had no chance of escape. With each moment that passed, she could see his will crumbling, brick by brick, as his gaze focused on her mouth. Hermione took his hand and lifted it to her face, sucking a single digit into her mouth.

"Ah," he sighed, his rapid breaths making the curls at her temples dance. He gritted his teeth and pulled his hand out of her grip. "I swear that if you come to me when you remember everything, you can own me. Anything. Any part of my body will be yours. No matter my cost. Everything. I swear it."

"But not right now," she said, giving up.

"No. Not now. I will probably curse this honorable streak later," he mumbled, still watching her mouth. "I'm not proud of what I've done. Let me make things up to you first,"

Hermione moved closer and raised up on her tiptoes, pressing her swollen lips against his, before pulling away. She turned her back on him and bent over to pick up his over-robes. Looking back over her shoulder, she saw his face. Regret, lust, and raw need sat naked and his eyes were glued to the hem of her skirt.

"Until tomorrow in Arithmancy then," she said, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. Carefully, she laid his robes over the desk she had just been perched on and smoothed her hand over the fabric.

"Oh God," he choked, forgetting that they sat next to each other in the back of the classroom three times a week where neither of her friends nor his could see them.

**HGHG**

Draco watched her walk out of the classroom with a whole spectrum of feelings. Body struggling not to follow her glorious lavender scent like a bloodhound. He needed a bloody cold shower, but he didn't think that would be sufficient. Knowing he would stroke himself to the thoughts of what she offered to do to him later, he shrugged his own robes back on. He needed them more than ever to hide his raging erection. He hoped to Merlin that Theo actually left ages ago and wasn't lounging around outside, waiting for a detailed accounting of what happened. His body and mind were tense, taut as a bowstring. There was only so much sexual tension a man could take.

He walked to the door and pulled it open, and looked around, pleased that he was alone. First, he would stop by the showers on the ground floor. Stand under the steam and think of how amazing it was that she had seemed to forgive him. Or at least withhold the punishment until she had a more comprehensive view of the situation. Never in a million years did he call that outcome. Really, he expected to meet the business end of her formidable wand. He did deserve it, after all. Then again, he felt guilty knowing that she might not be so forgiving in the wake of remembering everything he had repressed. And for all that, there were things he needed to tell her, things he had to admit to since then. Using Legilimency on her without her permission was the most pressing. He doubted he had the mental fortitude to admit to being in the train compartment when she masturbated.

He was under no illusion that he was a good guy and he marveled that when it came to her that he chose to do the right thing. For example, when he had stopped her from falling to her knees to give him a visual memory that he would probably never forget. It made his lips twitch up. Truly, she was the best part of him. And he wanted to deserve her.

The thought brought him to a stop, feet frozen in their tracks. He could never deserve her. His hand cupped the bare expanse of his forearm over the Dark Mark that had disappeared with his master's summons. The Dark Lord had made him suffer the burning summons for days. Seven days of agony. Seven days of wondering if he was going to be caught by the Headmaster. There wouldn't be much he could say in his own defense if the headmaster saw the livid black brand. There would be no saving him. Already he felt as if there was no way out.

There was servitude. There was 'yes, My Lord'.

Hermione stood on the opposite shore, an ocean of culpability between them. He could never be the man he wanted to be for her. If only he was born on her side of the conflict. But it was too late. Far too late. But whenever she came near, he lost his fucking head. Both of them.

But for once, he was going to do right by her. He couldn't tell her what he was up to, but he could show her how much she meant to him. Whether he deserved her or not, she wanted him, and he was going to give her everything she wanted. Well, not everything. It would still mean both of their deaths if they were caught by the wrong person. They would just have to keep meeting on the sly.

What fucked up world they lived in that he just willingly became Hermione Granger's dirty little secret. And he didn't hate it. He snorted at the thought and allowed a smile to overtake his entire face.

**HGHG**

Draco skipped Arithmancy the next day, opting instead to spend his time in the Room of Requirement. He didn't want to face her empty-handed and the quicker he finished his task, the sooner he could truly breathe.

In the back of his mind, he knew this wasn't the truth. He knew one successful task would mean another and another and another. It would never end. He would only be sucked deeper and deeper into the yawning chasm. Little by little his soul would die and eventually, he would shut off his humanity to stop the searing pain. Exactly like every single Death Eater currently serving in the inner circle. Including his father.

The vision of him becoming his father made him blanch and the memory of his mother telling him to get out reared its ugly head. As if he needed another distraction. But perhaps it would be the most important of all his self-imposed tasks. If he wanted to live a better life, if he wanted to have any chance with Hermione, he would have to make new plans. Dangerous plans. Man up and take personal responsibility. Yes, he was forced into a shitty situation. No, it wasn't completely his fault. That, unfortunately, didn't change the fact that his situation was thus. What did he truly want? And what was he willing to do to get it?

He wanted Granger and he was willing to do just about anything to ensure a favorable outcome.

The cabinet in front of him glowed blue and he yanked open the door. His trembling hand covered his mouth as he lifted out a small birdcage with the other. And for the very first time, the bird was still alive.

**HGHG**

Hermione caught sight of his blond head all the way down the hallway and maneuvered until she was nestled snuggly in an alcove that he would pass. Draco was one of the last students to leave the classroom and she was giddy with the knowledge that this would be the first time that she initiated a meeting between them.

Then he was right in front of her and she snatched his hand and pulled. Hard. He was caught off guard and windmilled to keep his balance. Nott, who had been walking next to him, snickered and winked at Hermione, flashing his shiny teeth, and continued down the hallway without his friend.

"What the…" Draco began but the moment he saw her, he paused. He leaned his forearm on the wall next to her head and gave her a sinful smirk. "And what business would the Gryffindor Princess have with such a villainous Slytherin? Aren't you worried for your virtue?"

"With you? Never." She laughed. He blinked rapidly as if he couldn't comprehend what she had just said.

"How could you possibly trust me?" he asked, vulnerable.

"I think I would have done anything you asked the other day and you are the one who said no. Not to hurt me. Not because it disgusted you. But because I don't remember us." She said quietly, looking up at him as if he held the moon and stars in his hands. "I trust you, Draco Malfoy. I trust you with me."

"You shouldn't," he whispered, remembering the look on her face when she realized exactly what he was doing in the Room of Requirement.

Hermione slid her hands over his sides, wrapping them around his waist. She pressed her cheek against his neck and savored his addictive scent. The tension in his body eased little by little, and he dropped his arm from the wall to wrap around the back of her shoulders.

"You skipped Arithmancy," Hermione murmured. "Why?"

Draco pulled back just enough to capture her lips. Hermione suspected that it was to stop her from asking too many questions. She was now starting to see the connecting dots. Whatever the reason he repressed her memories, it was an important one and it had everything to do with why he sometimes disappeared for days. Deep in her bones, she knew she wouldn't like what she would find.

However, he wasn't the only one denying the hell out of things. Having him so close, so loving, eased the ache she caused by obliviating her parents. He was her comfort and she knew that it wouldn't last. There would come a time where whatever this was, would end. Him standing with his family, Hermione with hers. And the more Harry shared with her and Ron about his lessons with Dumbledore, the more deeply she felt that she was nearing the end of life as she knew it.

**HGHG**

Weeks passed and he rarely left the room, saving those seldom moments for when he would be near her. He was avoiding everything and everyone else, lying to his master like no one's business. A large flock of birds wheeled through the air over his head, singing loud obnoxious songs in the darkness.

Draco crumpled up another letter he was trying to draft to his father, explaining that he was close but hadn't quite fixed the cabinet. Which was a big fucking lie and he knew his father was now being punished on the daily. Every day that Draco failed to open the portal, was another round of Crucio for his father. Guilt swelled in his throat and he nearly choked on the disloyalty, despite his father having done nothing to stop his own round of Cruciatus around Christmas time. However, he knew that he couldn't lie forever. Surely, he had another week before the Dark Lord began torturing his mother. Something that he knew he couldn't and wouldn't be able to bear.

He reached in his bag for another chocolate frog but came up empty-handed. He panicked. Pulling the bag onto his lap, he dug through the contents frantically. His candy stash had been his only sustenance in days. Choking on his hysteria, he pulled out the last box of candy he could find, sure that the universe had conspired cruelly to punish him. He cradled that small box of sugar quills, and all he could think of was Granger's smiling face. Her reddened lips. Wild curls that brushed his neck and face when he leaned in to kiss her. That trust that she had given so freely even when all evidence pointed to the opposite. Once, he had hopes that she would accept the small gift. And she probably still would but it wasn't time yet. Not until all her memories returned. He needed her to know exactly how far he had betrayed her and her kind. How far he was willing to go just to keep her in his life.

Gently, he put the sugar quills back in his bag. He would save them because who knew when he would have another chance to grab a box. Especially now that he felt his master's eyes like the harsh whip that had once dug deep into the skin on his back at the beginning of the year.

Then, suddenly, he felt as if naked flames were crawling over the flesh of his arm. As if acid was on a steady drip. The call was stronger than last time. Impossible to ignore. His eyes began to water, his right hand clutching the now visible black Dark Mark.

The cabinet glowed blue and Draco stood, breathing slowly through the pain. He jerked the door open. The decapitated head of his favorite house-elf sat bleeding on the shelf - blood not yet congealed - a letter pinned to his head with a thin knife. Tinky's dead eyes stared into his very soul and Draco shuttered. His hands shook as he ripped the letter away.

_Next time Dumbledore leaves the castle; you better be ready. You are being watched. Do. Not. Fail. Me! It won't only be your mother to die next. Prepare yourself._

Draco gulped. He had lied for as long as he could.

Unable to stand the guilt and grief any longer, he slammed the cabinet shut and ran out of the Room of Requirement like a bat out of hell, only stopping when he got to the nearest bathroom. He dunked his head under the faucet, reveling in the icy tingles that needled his skin.

_I can't do this_ , he thought, panicked. He wasn't ready. It was too soon. He would forever be remembered as the monster who let Death Eaters into his school. Hermione would finally be irrevocably lost to him. Tears flowed from his eyes and he couldn't control the terrified sobs that tore from his throat.

The door slammed open behind him and when he looked up, he met Potter's furious glare in the mirror.

"Malfoy," Potter said as if his last name was the dirtiest cuss in the world. Maybe it was.

Draco turned around, wand held tightly, ready to cast. Potter pulled his wand out, too and Draco knew that he would get his mother killed if Potter turned him in. He had no choice but to shut him up with a well-placed obliviate.

Draco cast, but his aim was shoddy, his hand unsteady. He ground his teeth together as the spell went miles wide of his target.

Potter threw Levicorpus at him and he blocked it, rerouting it, so it would sizzle on the stone floor. Draco cast another hex, this one also going wide, hitting the rubbish bin next to the door.

Potter's next spell nearly hit him. He felt the heat of it as it flew past his ear, crashing into the sink behind him.

All his pent-up rage over Potter and his fucking touchy-feely-hands on Hermione built up, mingling with his fear and years of loathing. With something that resembled a feral growl, he began to cast again. "Cruci-"

" _SECTUMSEMPRA_!" Potter yelled, slashing his wand through the air.

Draco's pain far surpassed any summons and the edges of his vision dimmed and faded to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dialogue from Dumbledore's talk with Snape has been taken directly out of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows HC pgs. 686-687. I made very few changes to it. Usually I don't like to do that, however, this scene is one of the most powerful in the whole series and I didn't want to cheapen the moment.


	11. The Beginning of Darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shout out to my awesome alpha reader, CJRed! Thank you!
> 
> You can follow me on Tumblr for chapter by chapter teasers throughout the week if that is your kind of thing. Jessiyl.
> 
> Updates every Thursday!
> 
> Funny story... I spent the whole week thinking yesterday was Tuesday, Tuesday was Monday... It's been a rough  
> week lol.
> 
> **Edit** as of 8 pm 8/15/19 I have made a few changes. First of all, I never intended that the spanking scene be seen as anything but fun. I have fixed things so that Draco is not holding her down and she is free to leave at any time. Secondly, I added a scene where Hermione has a few things to say to Draco about his highhanded ways. I hope you all enjoy this version much more. Thank you for alerting me and especially for your patience.
> 
> Also, I must thank you all for the respectful comments. You shouldn't be afraid to give me an honest and respectful review of my stories. I strive to give you all my best work. Though I thrive on positive comments, I can only grow as a writer when constructive criticism is given as well. I want to create the best stories possible. Each story better than the last. (Hopefully!)

**Chapter Eleven-The Beginning of Darkness**

"Good morning," Hermione murmured, smoothing Draco's blond hair out of his face.

"Is it?" he asked. He blinked his eyes open several times, uncertain if she was having a go at him, the hospital ward was so dark. Tiny floating lighted globes hovered in between each cot on the off chance that one of the invalids might need to get up in the night to use the loo.

"Granted, it might be very early morning," she smirked.

"What happened?"

Hermione bit her lip and looked away, nervously smoothing the blanket closest to her. "Harry hit you with a nasty curse,"

"Yes. I know that. How am I alive?" He watched her with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. He didn't blame her for Potter's idiocy.

"Professor Snape. He knew exactly how to heal you."

"He would since he was the one who created that spell," Draco murmured. "So, if I am healed, why am I still in the hospital ward?" both ignoring the fact that Pomfrey would keep any unconscious student until they woke.

"Same reason Ron is, I suppose," she said jerking her thumb over to the right where Weasley was snoring. Loudly.

Draco rolled his eyes but was slightly gratified that she was sitting next to his bed in the middle of the night. Not Weasley's. He ran his hand through his hair and murmured, "didn't know Potter had it in him." With a contented sigh, he settled back onto the pillows and closed his eyes. Something warm was taking up residence in his chest and he smirked.

Hermione rolled her eyes. If he thought she was going to treat him like a hurt little baby bird-like Parkinson did that year he insulted Buckbeak, he had another thing coming. "In his defense, he didn't know what that spell even did. I imagine it was a bigger surprise to him than you."

His eyes flew open, shocked. "You are defending him?"

"From what I understand, you were about to hit him with an unforgivable," She said pointedly.

Draco visibly deflated and murmured, "Yeah,"

Hermione sighed and scrubbed her face. "Why did you do it?"

"He drives me absolutely insane! I didn't do anything wrong other than being in the bathroom."

"You cast the first spell," Hermione accused.

"I did." He admitted without any shame. "It is not the first time that we have dueled. Doubt it will be the last either."

"He is my friend," A pained look crossed her face. She was clearly conflicted.

He bared his teeth, an ugly sneer twisting his handsome features. Stress, anger, and fear made him snap at her, even if he knew it wasn't her that he was angry with. "Such close friends,"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You thought I was jealous of Theo? Fuck that! I knew Theo would never cross that line. He is my best mate. But Potter? He  _always_  has his fucking hands all over you." The longer he ranted, the more heated he became until his vision was shrouded in a veil of crimson. Sense seemed to fly out of the window as he, mentally recounted every instance of Harry Potter and his bloody roaming hands.

"Are you… jealous?" Hermione asked with a raised brow.

"Fuck yes, I am jealous!" he fumed, hard possessive eyes on hers.

Hermione shook her head. "Harry is my best friend,"

"Theo is my best mate and he doesn't touch me the way Potter touches you," He pressed.

"You don't understand," she murmured.

"I don't think  _you_  understand. Potter has a thing for you, and I hate it. I hate it so much."

Hermione laughed quietly. "He has a thing for Ginny. Not me."

He sat up and grabbed her wrist, pulling her onto the bed. She tumbled on top of him, sprawled haphazardly over his knees.

"For someone so brilliant," he began. "You sure can be blind,"

Hermione tried to get up, but he pinned her down with one arm. "Let me up,"

"No,"

"Draco!"

"Yes?"

She growled, frustrated. "Let me up!"

He snorted, his free hand smoothing over her bum under her skirt. "No,"

"I am warning you," she said.

In one swift motion, he flipped her skirt up and landed a single light smack on her arse.

Hermione nearly choked with indignation. The spank hadn't been overly hard, it wasn't as if he had gone to town on her arse. It was the principal of the thing, dammit! She glowered as she thought of her wand just sitting on the nightstand, right next to his, merely an arm's length away. She laid it there before he woke and hadn't thought she would need it. His arm was like a steel band across her back, pressing her tightly against his knees.

"Did you just spank me?" she asked dangerously.

"I did."

"Draco Malfoy, I swear to Merlin you will regret this,"

"I doubt it," his voice turned husky and the hard press of his arm lifted, though she could feel his arm still draped over her waist. Without a single shred of doubt, she knew that if she really wanted to, she could easily slide off his lap.

Though her laugh was soft, it was maniacal. Promises of retribution flooded the air. But she couldn't deny the rush, the way she wanted to stay. He would never truly hurt her or take advantage of her. Once upon a time, he was that guy, the kind of guy she would destroy if he ever so much as touched her. This Draco, however… this Draco was hers. And she kind of really liked her current predicament and wanted to see where he would go with it.

Draco rubbed her barely stinging flesh, softly. "Don't let him touch you,"

"You are spanking me because Harry, my best friend, hugs me and puts his arm around me?" she snorted.

"I am spanking you because you enjoy making me jealous. Because you want me to lose my mind,"

_Smack!_

"Haaaaa," she exhaled.

"Say it,"

"Never!"

_Smack!_

"Say it!"

"No!"

_Smack!_

This time a low moan came out of Hermione. Though she was absolutely, undeniably furious, she was also incredibly aroused and slightly amused. And as she began wiggling on his lap, his fingertips quested between her legs to tease her core. She could feel herself grow wetter, could feel her arousal soak her knickers. Squirming desperately to find some sort of friction, she became aware of his very hard, very persistent erection against her hip.

"Are you going to let him touch you?"

"As a friend? Yes,"

_Smack!_

"I am not going to stop until I get the answer I want," he warned, but she could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Then we are going to be here for a very long time," she said in response, nose in the air even if she was face down.

Draco's indrawn breath whistled between his teeth and his cock twitched, despite the layers in between them. "I guess Madame Pomfrey is going to get one hell of a show then,"

Hermione growled, "Malfoy!"

"Yes, Sweetheart?"

"Let me up!" This time her angry retort was less effective, mainly because she was clearly struggling to keep her anger.

"No,"

_Smack!_

"Fucking fuck!" she whisper-yelled as his hand connected with her bum, this time a bit harder. "Draco!"

"I am not one of your boy toys that will dance along to whatever tune you demand. I want your word, Hermione,"

"Fine! I will not let Harry touch me unless he touches Ron in the same way,"

"Not good enough. Merlin only knows what those two get up to!"

"Draco! They are not like that,"

"Maybe, maybe not. There will be no negotiations on this, Love. I want a clear answer."

She stayed stubbornly silent. Had she not tried to compromise? As if she would ever allow him to tell her what to do.

"No?" he lifted his hand again.

"Fine! Fine! I won't let Harry touch me in a familiar manner anymore. Happy?" she said, and she could hear the smug lilt in his voice when he hummed his assent. She rolled her eyes. He must know she would never go through with it.

"Good," he murmured, sliding her knickers aside and tracing the line of her lips, before gently parting her flesh and sinking a single finger into her warm body.

Hermione was breathless, a hot mess, nearly creaming right then and there. He pumped into her a few times before drawing her juices out and up to her clit. Still holding her down, he made maddening slow circles on her needy button.

"Please," she whispered, close to whimpering and moaning wantonly.

In response, he sped up his amazingly talented fingers but just before she was thrown off the precipice, he stopped, sinking his finger back in her grasping cunt. One finger turned into two, and her body bucked and clenched magnificently. Then his pinky was there at her clit pressing the sensitive bundle with each pump.

White light exploded behind her eyes and she gasped, rolling her hips as best as she could, riding his fingers for all she was worth.

"As usual, you look gorgeous when coming," he said in a choked, awed voice. He lifted his arm off of her back and she just laid there for a moment, trying to collect herself. Only minutes ago, she was furious, certain she would kill him once she had the chance but that was unquestionably the best orgasm of her life. Then again, isn't that what she thought last time? Things just kept getting better and better. What would it be like when he finally pressed his rigid cock into her needy body? Would he ruin her for anyone else? Yes, her mind answered, without a doubt.

She slid off his knees, planting her feet on the floor even if her knees were shaking. Despite that, she was steady enough. She shot him a mock scathing look before grabbing her wand and practically ran out of the Hospital Wing.

**HGHG**

Draco watched her run like a scared little rabbit and smiled. That was one fantasy he had for many years and it was just as incredible as he always imagined. The only difference is that he always envisioned bringing her to orgasm with his cock. He shrugged. There was always next time.

He threw the blankets off of his body and climbed out of bed, gathering his things. Dressing hurriedly while trying not to press against his erection was a lesson in patience. He needed a shower and a wank, and if there was any mercy, he wouldn't be forced to do that in the Hospital showers.

Weasley was still snoring loudly as he left, unaware of the naughty nature of his best friend. Draco smirked. Granger was his. At least for this moment, she was all his. And he was done with the self-flagellation, done with not enjoying the time he spent with Hermione. Because, in the end, he didn't think he had much time left anyway. Every moment he had with her would be cherished, and he refused to tarnish the memories with his self-loathing.

Later that afternoon, feeling much more relaxed, Draco sat on one of the leather chairs in front of Snape's desk that was set there for the few brave students who sought out the ornery professor.

"Do you have any idea the trouble you caused when Madame Pomfrey went to check on you and you weren't there?"

Draco rolled his eyes but stayed silent.

"You have no idea what I had to say to convince the Headmaster to let me find you. He was ready to hunt you down himself. Would have, if he didn't have a pressing engagement outside of the school," Snape growled, working himself into a fine mood, ranting as voraciously as Draco had ever seen.

All of the blood drained from his face and he took in a long breath. Tonight will be the night. He had to get up to the Room of Requirement and send a letter. A letter that he did not want to send but had to, for the sake of his family.

"Finally understanding, are you?" Snape sneered. Draco looked at him. He understood more than Snape would ever know. Usually, he treated Draco like a pseudo-son but this year, Draco knew he had tried the other man's non-existent patience to the extreme.

"Sorry," he mumbled, hoping to avoid talking about his mission. Or anything else really. He needed to get out of there. "I hate that place."

"We all have to continue playing our parts, Draco. Where would I have been, all these years, if I didn't know how to act?"

A muscle in Draco's jaw ticked but he continued staying silent. His Occlumency walls were in place, strong as ever. Much to the annoyance of his professor, he was certain.

"If you would only let me help you," Snape cajoled, his voice lowering, soothing in a way he rarely let himself be seen.

There was only so much a man could take. Draco stood, intending on leaving, but Snape circled the desk and blocked his path. Snape placed a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"There is nothing,  _nothing_ , you can do to help me," Draco said, accusation fairly dripping from his lips.

When Draco was terrified, kneeling at their Lord's feet over the Summer Holidays, where was Snape then? Where was Snape the night the Dark Lord branded him? That was when Draco needed Snape. Not now that he had been given a task. And surely not now that he was finished. He shrugged off Snape's hand and shouldered past to get to the door.

"Draco, you are not alone," he murmured quietly as if the whole interaction caused him pain.

Draco snorted. "I've never been more alone in my life,"

He walked out of the door, out of the dungeons, and straight to the Room of Hidden Things. He had a letter he had to send to the Dark Lord before his whole family was murdered.

**HGHG**

Hermione sat in the alcove off the seventh-floor landing and stared off into space. If he wanted another go at her bum, she would probably agree. Her cheeks flamed as she thought about being draped over Draco's knees, but couldn't help appreciating his confidence. Even if he was highhanded. Usually, he poured sweetness on her, tender caresses at every turn, and intense stares full of longing across classrooms and corridors. This devilish playfulness was a whole other side of him.

She was startled out of her memories by the slow slog of a body climbing the stairs. The moment his blond hair topped the rise, he lifted his eyes and their gazes met. She stood, sliding her own personal blank mask over her face.

Draco climbed that last few steps until he was on her level.

With her wand in one hand, she reached up and fisted his tie with the other and walked him backward until his back hit the wall.

He moved willingly, a soft smile pulling the corners of his lips.

"You know I am never going to stick to that promise. I will never stop being Harry's friend. And he can hug me and touch me as a friend and there is nothing you can do about it. Right?"

Draco looked down at his feet and shuffled a bit uncomfortably before answering. "I know,"

"I'm not going to lie, I absolutely loved being spanked, even though I was spitting nails at first. And I know you are upset over your recent near-death experience. But you cannot take your stress and fear out on me. I want to do all sorts of things with you, but you have to pull your head out of your arse first."

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair, making the strands stick straight up from his head. "It was impulsive, for sure, and I don't want you to think that I don't take you seriously. I do. At first, I pulled you onto me because I was mad at Potter and at… It doesn't matter. I stopped holding you down pretty early on. You could have stopped me at any time. I thought we were having fun,"

"I'm not saying it wasn't fantastic," Hermione smiled, softly chuckling to herself. "Did you think I would ever let anyone tell me what I can and cannot do? Did you think I wouldn't get back at you for holding me down for the first smack? My arse still stings," she rubbed her arse through her robes.

He snorted. "If your arse stings, then your bum is more sensitive than a butterfly's wings. I barely spanked you,"

"It was the principal of the thing," she protested.

"Okay, okay, you win. I will take my punishment with good grace. What do you want me to do?"

"You don't need to do anything," she said, lifting her wand and prodding his chest with the tip. He eyed it warily, hands slowly raising in surrender. Hermione leaned in as if she was going to kiss him, even lifting up on her tiptoes before whispering, " _Immobulus_ ,"

She took several steps back. Vindication. "Don't worry, Draco. I will send up Nott to unfreeze you." Twirling around, Hermione took the first step down before stopping and looking over her shoulder. "As soon as I find him, that is,"

**HGHG**

There was only one thought running through Draco's mind as he stood against the wall, frozen.  _Well played, Hermione Granger, well played._

**HGHG**

Hermione looked up, startled as Harry ran in the Gryffindor Common Room as if the hounds of hell were on his heels.

"Harry?" she asked. Shoving her work to the side, she stood, but he waved her down and pounded up the spiral staircase to the boy's dorms. He wasn't gone long, however, before he was in front of her again, shoving the last bit of Felix Felicis with the Marauder's map wrapped around it in her hands. The cloak swirled around his body as he swung the material around his shoulders, then he reached out and grabbed her hands that clutched the vial containing the last remaining drops of the golden potion.

"Gather the DA and patrol the school tonight. Dumbledore and I are going for the Horcrux and I think something will happen while we are gone."

"Alright. We will," she said worriedly.

He pulled her in, hugged her tightly, and dropped a kiss on her temple before whispering, "be safe."

"You too," she whispered back, hugging him just as hard. She wasn't stupid enough to think that anyone of them was safe and couldn't help but worry. At least he would be with Professor Dumbledore.

Draco's jealous voice floated to the forefront of her mind and she shoved it down almost violently. He didn't get to tell her what to do or who to be friends with. Harry needed her just as much as she needed him. And despite Draco and his jealousies, she had no intention of withholding affection from Harry. Everything that she had done to her parents, to her own life, centered around Harry and this war. Draco would just have to understand.

Harry patted her arm and pulled away, crossing the porthole without a second glance. Hermione reached into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out her DA coin. It was completely coincidental that she had it on her. Earlier, when she had changed out of her ruined knickers, she pulled out a pair of jeans from deep within her trunk. The worn pair were old and comfortable. Her favorite pair from the previous year and tucked deeply in the pocket was the DA coin. At the time, she shrugged, smiling, and tucked it back in her pocket. Funny how that happens sometimes.

Hermione pinched the coin between her fingers and made the call to arms, wondering how many would answer. In the meantime, she unfurled the map and tapped it, whispering, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

Each tiny labeled set of footprints moved on the parchment, like tiny bees in a hive, buzzing with purpose and motion. As quick as she could, she located Snape's name and sighed with relief when she spotted his dot stationary in his office.

One down… she thought, then began searching desperately to see  _his_  name. But Draco was nowhere as if he had ceased to exist and a heavyweight filled her stomach. The once hidden memories rushed back like a speeding train.

_And it hit her, the moment she remembered the previous year when she was running late for a DA meeting. Using the map to guide her way, she noticed offhandedly that none of the DA members were on there and neither was the room itself._

_Malfoy_ had _to be in the room._

_Leaving the Astronomy tower, she wound through the halls that she knew would lead her exactly where she needed to go and before long, she was standing in front of the blank wall that she knew hid the entrance to the Room of Requirement._

_What would Draco Malfoy use the room for?_

_She began walking and muttering, "Show me the room Draco Malfoy is using,"_

_Back and forth she walked, three times. Nothing. She nodded and a furrow deepened between her brows. She knew from the previous year that she needed to know exactly what the room was being used for. The specifics were what mattered. A half-hour passed in the same boring manner when the door appeared before her. For one crazy minute, she thought her muttering of 'Fucking Draco Malfoy,' got results. That was until the man himself walked out; eyes wide at being caught._

_"Hermione," he murmured, shocked and chagrined, the door still opened behind him._

_She reeled. He really was there._

That memory faded away before another quickly took its place.

_Hermione turned her head, unwilling to admit that his closeness affected her, threatened to weaken her resolve. Her eye caught and held a familiar object and quicker than lightning, her mind made the connection. A vanishing cabinet. Just like the one in Borgin and Burkes when Harry, Ron, and Hermione had followed the sketchy Draco Malfoy to Knockturn Alley while shopping for their yearly Hogwarts supplies._

" _Leave it alone, Hermione" Draco growled into her ear._

_Draco turned her around and grabbed her face, taking ownership over her lips as if he had every right. Hermione sank into his kiss, her whole body tingling with excitement, and she let herself melt against the harder planes of his body. Intense. Everything was so intense, as it always was with him. Perhaps it was the danger. Perhaps it was just him. But whatever it was, Hermione knew that she would always yearn for this, for him._

_Then it hit her. More devastatingly than just about anything. This was his way of saying goodbye._

_Tears stung her eyes, but she just clenched them tighter. She would not cry. Not now. Not for this. Obliviates were a powerful tool, and she knew it well. Suddenly, she didn't want to lose this time they shared. Conflicting desires battled for dominance. The desire to protect him by being ignorant. The desire to stop him from completing his assignment._

_"Malfoy," she murmured against his lips, warring needs pulling her in opposite directions._

_Then he moaned and his lips were wrapped around hers again. She felt as if a string had attached itself to the pit of her stomach and Draco held the other end while insistently strumming the taunt line. Every movement, every meeting of flesh threw her into a glorious haze. She morbidly wondered if she would still feel like this without her memories. And as his tongue swept over her abused lips, she decided that she could forget the words, the meetings, the intentions but she would never forget the way it felt to be wanted by Draco Malfoy. Even if that feeling was instinctive rather than based on firsthand knowledge._

_All of a sudden, he tore his mouth from hers and she watched him struggle to center himself. Hope bled through even then because she was still hoping they could work it all out, that he would trust her, that he would love her._

_They looked at each other for a moment and he raised his wand faster than she had for the first time ever. She wasn't sure if that was on purpose or if he was just at the top of his game. A tiny piece of her was relieved that he was faster. An even smaller piece of her mind hated herself for that._

Memory after memory rushed out of its tightly enclosed box and suddenly Hermione was on her knees, head in her hands. Ron was there, holding her shoulders, shaking her.

"You alright?" he kept asking and she began to sob. No, she wasn't okay. She would never be okay. Not ever again. The betrayal ripped her heart to shreds.

"What did you do to Hermione?" Ginny demanded angrily, pushing Ron out of her way and wrapping the hysterical girl in her arms.

"Nothing," he said in astonishment. "I… she… I found her like this,"

"Hermione?" Ginny said. "What's wrong?"

Struggling to get herself under control, she took deep breaths. There was no doubt in her mind that she loved Draco Malfoy. There was also no doubt that she couldn't forgive him. He had taken her ability to prepare, to come up with a plan that might save him and everyone else.

"Hermione?" Ginny asked again, rubbing calming circles on her back.

"Something is going to happen tonight," she whispered, determined to collect herself. There were more important things to consider than her love story. "Something bad. And even though the Order is patrolling, we need to as well. Voldemort is on the move,"

"What do we do?" Neville asked, tucking his coin in his pocket.

"We need to watch the Room of Requirement and Snape," she said. Ron nodded, taking over the battle plans from there.

"Hermione would be the best candidate to tail Snape, she doesn't seem to have the same fear of him as most of the rest of us do. And, she is the most powerful. She has the best chance to stop him. You should probably take one other person with you," Ron said.

"I'll go," Luna said as she walked into the Gryffindor Common Room behind Dean Thomas.

"Great. The rest of us will split into pairs and patrol the halls. Except for me and Dean who will keep watch on the Room of Requirement," Ron looked up at Dean who nodded.

The room had filled up with many of the members, many more than Hermione anticipated. It was such a wonderful feeling, knowing they had such a solid group of friends. Draco's face rose in her mind and she tromped it down savagely, nearly growling. That would come later. And Merlin help him when she finally caught up to him.

"You should take the map," Hermione murmured to Ron holding it out for him to take. He nodded, folded it, and slipped it into his pocket.

People started flooding out the portal and Hermione grabbed Ron and Ginny before they could go too far. "Wait a moment,"

Luna flashed her a smile. "I'll wait outside for you,"

Hermione nodded, grateful.

"Are you okay Hermione? I don't think your earlier breakdown was because we need to look out tonight. Want to talk about it?" Ginny asked.

"I can't. Not right now and maybe not ever," she said. "What I wanted to tell you was that Harry wanted us to each take a sip of the last of the Felix Felicis."

She held up the tiny bottle and handed it to Ginny. Ginny lifted the bottle in salute before taking a small sip. Ron did the same before sheepishly handing the rest to Hermione, no doubt remembering the last time Felix Felicis had been a topic between them. Hermione rolled her eyes - over it - and gulped the rest.

Together the three of them walked out of the tower, splitting up the moment they cleared the portrait.

"Good luck," she smiled nervously at Ginny, despite the potion's confidence running through her body.

Ginny waved fire and the fight in her eyes.

"Be safe, yeah?" Ron said. His cheeks flooded with color and he scratched the back of his neck.

"You too," she murmured before they parted. Luna was waiting patiently for her a little way down the hall, leaning against the wall, twirling her wand in between her fingers. A nervous habit that Hermione had only seen from the younger witch the night they went to the Ministry, last year.

"Ready," Hermione asked.

Luna didn't say anything but fell into step with her as they made their way to the Defense Classroom where Snape's office was connected.

"Everything okay?" Hermione asked a few minutes after they were walking.

Luna sighed and shrugged. "My grandmother is trying to force my father into binding me into a marriage contract. I can't imagine Marcus Flint would be a good match for me. He was one of the students who hid my shoes last year,"

"Is there anything I can do to help you?"

"Let's win this war," Luna murmured in a rare show of firm resolve.

Hermione nodded, thinking that Pureblooded politics and their unyielding stance had turned her life completely inside out. From the very beginning, it was a necrotic miasma that surrounded the school and the wizarding world as a whole.

The corridors were silent, and the girls crept along to avoid casting echoes onto the stone walls, only stopping when they were outside of the very office they were meant to guard. They had been there for about a half-hour before Professor Flitwick came barreling down the hall, skidding to a stop in front of Snape's door.

Despite not being disillusioned or hidden in any way, the tiny professor completely missed their presence. He opened the door and it hit the wall inside with a bang.

Out of breath, he said, "Death Eaters in the castle!"

Hermione heard something heavy hit the floor and moved closer to the door when Snape stepped into the doorway, blocking their way.

"Flitwick fainted. Check on him, would you?" Professor Snape may have been speaking to them, but his mind was already above, where she imagined the Death Eater's made their entrance. With an impressively billowing cloak, he swept down the corridor like a monstrous bat. For a moment she considered following but decided bringing Flitwick around would only take a moment or two. Hermione watched Snape until he disappeared before turning to the unconscious professor on the floor. She walked into the room, trying to decipher the information that hovered above Flitwick.

Luna was on her knees, hunched over, wand sweeping elegantly through the air.

"By my diagnostics charm, he was stunned," Luna said quietly, turning her unsettled eyes on Hermione. That could only mean one thing, Snape must have stunned him before leaving. Fuming, Hermione turned back to the door, only to stop in her tracks. The door, which had been left wide open, was now closed, and Snape's impressive wards effectively trapped them.

"Rennervate," Hermione mumbled at Flitwick and was slightly relieved when the short professor came to.

"What… what happened? He was clearly confused, and Luna patiently explained to him what they knew, not leaving out the fact that Snape stunned him. He sat there blinking owlishly, struggling to comprehend such a thing. Hermione's lips twisted in a brutal mockery of happiness. She wasn't the only one to be betrayed by someone she was sure was on her side.

"What now?" Luna said.

Flitwick stood up and tested the wards and turned to the girls grimly after making his assessment. "I will dismantle these wards, but they are some of the best out there. It will take some time,"

"Seems like we have that," Hermione said stepping up to the ward boundaries next to Flitwick. "I'm a fast learner, maybe together we can get through them faster,"

Flitwick nodded, his faith in her skills was high indeed. For the first two wards, she watched how Flitwick felt them out, tested them, until he understood their intent.

"The first one is to warn. It will glow blue and let Severus know that someone is trying to breach the wards."

Hermione nodded, soaking up as much information as possible. It was quite possible that she would need to have a basic understanding of wards, either to cast or to dismantle in her future. Wouldn't it be better to have a professor teach her?

"See there," he said pointing to a small blue barb on the floor near the door.

"Yes,"

"That is the hook. It is the weakest part of the spell. I like to think of it as the clasp or the closure. Where the two sides of the spell converge. Now that we found the weak point, we have to figure out the best spell to take it down. In this case, it is best to break it. Since it is tied to Severus, he will feel it. Let's make it sting,"

With a jerk of his wand, he sent a stinging hex straight for the barb, taking a ridiculous amount of pleasure in his success. Apparently, the charms professor didn't like being stunned.

"Why don't you try and feel for the barb this time," he said. Hermione lifted her wand, feeling the magic that encased the door. It was harder than he made it look, running magic along the ward, trying to find a small burr that may or may not be near the bottom.

However, the moment her magic slid over the burr she knew that it was exactly what she was looking for. "How do I identify the ward's function?

"You have cast magic before and should know that each spell has its own flavor, a familiarity. That is also how you can tell who the caster of the spell is. But it really is only identifiable as people you already know the magical feel of. It is how the Aurors track serial wrongdoers. They can't hide their signature. This one is placed and held by Severus, but we already knew that. Can you feel the anger, the finesse? He is a very powerful and competent wizard."

Hermione nodded eagerly.

"What do you think this ward does then?" Professor Flitwick asked.

Hermione's brow furrowed as she caressed the ward, poking at the barb. "I think it acts like a wall, an invisible wall that will physically block someone from crossing the thresh hold,"

"Very good!" He praised. "It is important to note that it does not differentiate between entering and exiting,"

"Which is why I compared it to a wall and not a one-way curtain," Hermione snarked.

Professor Flitwick struggled to keep his amusement in check. She was always like this when it came to learning. "Exactly!"

"How would I bring it down?" she asked.

"How would you bring down a wall?"

" _Bombarda_?" she asked, uncertain. "But if I cast that, wouldn't it bounce back?"

"Definitely," he said in a happy chirp. "That is why you have to aim and hit the barb. The weak point,"

"Ah!" Hermione said, comprehending. She stood with feet shoulder-width apart, and took a deep breath, centering herself. Lifting her wand, she pointed straight at the small burr and said, " _Bombarda!_ "

The ward shattered, blue sparkles flew into the air, flowing to the floor like a gentle mist.

"Wonderful!" Flitwick said, clapping his little hands.

"Great job, Hermione," Luna said from her spot on the floor behind them.

"Do you want to do the next one?" Flitwick asked Luna and she shook her head vigorously. He turned back to Hermione. "Try to find it,"

This one was much more difficult to trace. Every time she pulled the ward forward and started to trace the line of it, it would disappear back into the others that still held. After several minutes she sighed, frustrated.

"This one is much more difficult," he said. "Can you guess its function?"

"No," she shook her head, feeling as if she had failed a test.

"That is okay," he said kindly. "this one is designed to be a trigger to the last two that remain because they both need a trip line. Passing the last two wards wouldn't set them off. Passing this one would. Think of it like a thin wire that crisscrosses,"

He lifted his wand and followed the light blue ward from line to line that began and ended in a zigzag on each side of the doorway. They kept disappearing on her because she was tracing them straight across, like the two that came before. Those were like a thin film that covered the entire doorway. This one was like a trap set in a hallway of a  _Bond_  movie.

In the direct center of the doorway, in the centermost line sat the tiny burr, so small, that only someone brushing the ward with magic would notice it. Hermione caught her breath.

"What do you suppose would be the best way to dismantle this one?"

"A severing charm?" she asked uncertainly, and he nodded with a smile, sending a nonverbal that dropped the ward.

"What do the last two do?"

Hermione lifted her wand and pulled forward the next, studying it, coming across this burr rather easily. It was large and crudely done as if this ward mattered little. "It feels like a chime?"

"Excellent! Five points to Gryffindor," Flitwick said. "It will warn Professor Snape that someone is crossing the tripwire ward. It will pulse through his wand. How should we bring it down?"

"Finite?"

"Exactly!"

Hermione pointed her wand at the large barb and with a flick of her wrist cast a nonverbal finite. The ward dropped as if it never existed.

"And the last?" He asked, rubbing his hands together in glee.

Hermione shook her head, uncertain. "I don't know,"

"This one will mark the person who crosses the tripwire ward. So that no matter what, he will always know who came. Even if he doesn't respond right away. It will last up to two weeks,"

Hermione's face drained of blood. How many times over the years had she broke into his private stores and had a magical mark on her? She flushed as Flitwick gave her a pointed look but looked deeply amused. It explained how Professor Snape almost always knew it was them stealing from his personal stores.

"This one will also be dismantled with a quick finite. Most people don't even feel this ward or realize what it is."

"Finite," Hermione whispered, mortified. Did that mean all the professors knew she had broken into Professor Snape's personally warded areas? And they hadn't said anything?! Oh damn…

"Go straight to your Common Rooms and stay there. Make sure the other students stay put as well," Flitwick said over his shoulder as he crossed the now unwarded doorway, taking off at a run.

"Like hell," Hermione muttered, cheeks still stained with her embarrassment.


	12. Battle of Astronomy Tower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who didn't already know, I have tweaked chapter 11 a bit and added a small scene toward the end. I just changed the tone a little, and it didn't affect the plot at all.
> 
> Thank you to CJRed for Alpha reading this story. As always, she is amazing.
> 
> Updates every Thursday!
> 
> Follow me, Jessiyl, on Tumblr for chapter by chapter teasers if you are into such things.

**Chapter Twelve- Battle of Astronomy Tower**

Draco watched as Death Eaters flowed out of the cabinet one at a time and felt truly sick. Fenrir had been first to come through and he stared in horror at the brutal Werewolf. Not once in all the planning and talks had he been told that Fenrir would be there. The out of control Werewolf had often said how he longed to sink is teeth into Potter's uppity Mudblood. Fenrir's words, not his. And it made him sick to his stomach just thinking about it.

Finally, the last of the Death Eaters stepped through, a mountain of a wizard, Thorfinn Rowle.

He felt numb as Thorfinn pressed the one thing he had asked for earlier in the day into his hands. The Hand of Glory. In his pocket, he felt with his other hand for the small packet of Peruvian Darkness Powder, knowing that the entrance to the Room was being closely watched. Earlier, Crabbe had noticed Weasel's complete inability to spy as the boy shuffled in his hiding spot, down the hall. They needed to get past to get to the highest point of Hogwarts, the Astronomy Tower. One of the Death Eaters would raise the Dark Mark, calling back the light's general, Albus Dumbledore.

There, Draco was to wait for the Headmaster, and while panicked and frantic, the unsuspecting Headmaster would fall to Draco's wand. Draco swallowed and rested his shoulder against the door to the Room of Hidden Things. Once he crossed the threshold, everything would change. He would no longer just be someone on the sidelines of this war. He would be outed as the Dark Lord's man. If Hermione didn't hate him yet, she surely would once she realized what he was going to do.

Pressing an ear to the door, he closed his eyes and listened, amazed that the Death Eaters behind him were able to remain quiet as he listened. He could feel it though, the adrenaline pumping throughout their systems. They fairly stank of anticipation.

"It's time," Rowle murmured in his ear. He swallowed hard. There was no going back. There never was.

Draco pushed the door open and threw the powder in the air. Cursing filled the corridor as the Weasel and his companions were blinded in the dark. He could feel Rowle clutch the back of his robes and he assumed the rest fell into line, holding onto the person ahead of them. They wove through their blinded enemies, moving unhindered past them. The Death Eater delegation climbed the stairs, breaking off as Order members caught up with them, detaining them in duels. Flashing lights flew everywhere, hitting the stone stairway, making chips of rockfall on top of their heads as they continued to climb.

About halfway up, Draco's group was detained, but Gibbon pushed through, running up the remaining stairs to cast the Dark Mark into the sky. He was back in the fray within minutes, and Draco struggled to move up the stairs without being hit. Thorfinn Rowle began slinging deadly hexes left and right, caring little who got hit.

Finally, he alone was at the door and pushed through. The Headmaster was raising his wand and blood pumped furiously through Draco's panicked body. " _Expelliarmus_ ," he shouted.

Tightly gripping his wand, Draco watched Dumbledore's wand as it arced through the air, over the crenellations, falling helplessly to the ground from the unimaginable height of the Astronomy Tower. He focused back on his Headmaster, studying his unusually pale face and felt his stomach jump into his throat. Whatever chance he had for Dumbledore to help him went right out the window.

It was clear that something was wrong with him. The old wizard was leaning heavily against the stone ramparts, though his expression didn't look particularly disturbed. But Draco never thought to see the powerful wizard so weak. Hardening himself, he began preparing for success. Even if he would never tell anyone, Draco was deeply upset. Dumbledore, his one last hope, had failed him.

Draco had counted on Dumbledore's help, hoping that when the time came Dumbledore would swoop in and save him like he always had with Potter. For days, he let it be his only guiding light. In the end, it was the only way that he could see that would lead him into Hermione's arms. Those dreams burned and turned to ash in front of his very eyes. The further Dumbledore slid down the wall, so did his hopes and dreams.

Finally stepping forward, he looked around, hoping that they weren't as alone as he thought they were. His sharp eyes narrowed on the second broom.

"Who else is here?" Draco asked.

"A question I should ask you. Or have you accomplished this all on your own?" Dumbledore waved his hand at the air, indicating the mark in the sky.

At that moment Draco hated him, hated his weakness. Draco needed him! Needed him to protect him from the war. He was as alone now as he was the night when the Dark Lord marked him.

"No, I'm not alone," he said quietly. "There are Death Eaters in Hogwarts,"

Blood rushed his ears as Dumbledore began praising him for his hard work, appreciating the intelligence and ingenuity he had shown. For a moment he preened, thinking back on the year. But even that short blush of victory dulled. Hermione's face when she confronted him about his mission before he repressed her memories…

"Where are they?" Dumbledore asked.

"Below," he gestured to the doorway behind him. "The Order got in the way,"

"They do that," Dumbledore smiled.

Draco took a shuddering breath and pushed down the bile that fought to make its way out of his mouth.

"I suppose you should get on with it then, my dear boy,"

Draco felt a flush of annoyance. Was he so ready to die? Was he so ready to throw Draco away and into the arms of a madman? He could do nothing but stare at his Headmaster.

Dumbledore's face softened. "You are not a killer,"

"How do you know?" Draco croaked. If he wasn't yet, he would be. The Dark Lord would ensure it. "You don't know what I am capable of. Things that I have done…"

"But I do," Dumbledore said. "The necklace, the poison; both lackluster attempts. I wondered if you were even trying,"

Draco froze as he heard a muffled yell and looked over his shoulder, terror tightening his grip on his wand.

"I was confident, I will admit, that there would have been no way for you to accomplish your mission," Dumbledore continued. "How did you do it?"

"The broken Vanishing Cabinet," Draco murmured.

"Ah! I see. Ingenious really," Dumbledore said. Praising Draco yet again. "I am quite unarmed. You don't need to wait. Maybe you should get on with it,"

Is that how Dumbledore saw him? A killer? Despite having announced that Draco was not a killer only moments ago?

"Killing is not as easy as the innocent believe," Dumbledore murmured calmly as if he had all the time in the world.

That was the bloody truth, Draco thought. His family would be safe if he went through with it. He would be honored above all others. Anything he wanted; he would get it. If he wanted a trophy slave at the end, all he would have to do is say the word and Hermione would be his. Her body would be his, he amended to himself. Because he knew that if he killed her hero, she would never be the sweet stubborn woman who made his pulse race. She would never look at him in  _that_  way ever again. He didn't want a living doll. He wanted her. All of her.

His wand arm trembled.

"You haven't done anything unforgivable. I can help you,"

Draco wanted to laugh. Dumbledore looked half-dead as he was. How could he help him now?

"Nobody can help me now," he rasped, feeling like he was going to cry. "He will kill my whole family,"

"We can hide you better than you could even imagine," Dumbledore pressed. "If you were dead, and no one would be surprised if you did die under my wand, we could even get to your mother by the morning. Even your father, after he is released from Azkaban,"

Draco stared at the man. How could the Headmaster make such an offer when he wasn't even informed that Draco's father had been out of Azkaban for months? All of them were. The Dark Lord had control of the prison ever since the night of the Ministry Battle that landed his father in Azkaban. The reason why his father had still been there up until Christmas was because the Dark Lord wanted to punish him. The validity of any offer was now suspect. A desperate plea from a desperate man.

He knew then that Dumbledore was stalling. But why? He lowered his wand, noticeably. There was something he was missing.

Moments later the door crashed open and four Death Eaters joined them on the tower. The Carrows, Avery, and Fenrir Greyback. Draco didn't know what to do. He couldn't very well walk away now. He was trapped. Then again, he always was.

Amycus was taunting Dumbledore the moment he cleared the doorway but Draco couldn't hear properly over the rushing of blood through his ears. It sounded muffled as if coming from a long way away. They were laughing at his Headmaster, sniggering as they made observations about his less than healthy appearance.

It was Greyback who brought him out of whatever was happening to him, focusing his disgust on the Werewolf.

"I am a bit shocked that Draco would invite you of all people into the school where his friends reside," Dumbledore said.

Draco shook his head and answered through bloodless lips. "I didn't… I didn't know he would be here,"

Dumbledore looked deep into his eyes and Draco wanted to show the other wizard that he was worth saving, should have been approached months ago. With every ounce of skill, Draco pushed the best part of himself to the forefront of his mind, only muting those scenes that showed his intimate relationship with Hermione. But he did give Dumbledore the very beginning, the many times where he watched her, kissed her, wanted to be a better man…. For her. The beginnings of his plan to get away from his new role. His conflict over saving his family or Hermione. His feelings of utter defeat. The wish that Dumbledore would save him. So much regret rushed through him.

Dumbledore's eyes widened minutely. Message had been received, much too late.

"Now, Draco," Avery said, losing patience.

Draco was shaking so hard at this point that he knew he couldn't hit a mountain troll that was standing right in front of him. Nothing quite made him feel relief like the sound of the door flying open once more. Snape stood like a dark beacon taking in the scene.

"Severus…" Dumbledore said. It was begging, pure and simple, and Draco nearly gagged in fear.

Saying nothing, Snape moved forward and shoved Draco out of the way, none too gently either. All of the Death Eaters shrunk back from the furious wizard. He was exuding so much rage, his magic lashed brutally at everyone near. Revulsion curled his lip and hatred shone unmasked in his eyes.

"Please," Dumbledore murmured.

After a moment of staring directly in the Headmaster's eyes, he lifted his wand. Had Draco not known the man so well or was not so familiar with all his moods and facial expressions, he would have thought that he imagined the shocked look in his eyes. The look was gone just as quickly as it came, minute as it was.

" _Avada Kedavra_ ,"

Draco watched as his last hope rose in the air and followed the same trajectory as his wand to land at the feet of the towering structure on which they stood. Something died in him then. His soul rose, roaring like a disgruntled nesting dragon. He might not have said the words, but Dumbledore was dead because of him. Hermione would never forgive him.

Snape had clamped his hand on Draco's shoulder and propelled him back down the stairs of the tower. The battle raged on, Rowle still throwing hexes every which way. Snape raised his wand, protecting them, pushing Draco down and down the next flight of stairs. All Draco kept thinking was that he didn't see her. Maybe she was safe. Maybe she wouldn't know what he had done.

He heard Snape call the Death Eaters to retreat and stumbled down a set of stairs only steadied by Snape's firm grip. Soon they were out the main doors and on the grounds.

Behind them, Potter followed, furious, screaming at Snape. " _Stupify,_ "

"Run, Draco," Snape snarled and gave him a little push to continue until he was outside the gate. He moved as if trapped under a spell, feet flying to the boundary of their own accord. The second he cleared the wards, a strong hand clamped on his arm, side-along apparating him home.

The gates of Malfoy Manor rose in the dark night. Once a home, now a prison. Pushing all memories of Hermione and any softening to the core of his being, he built walls that would take years to dismantle. The part of him that could have been a better man died with Dumbledore. Or so he told himself.

**HGHG**

"Draco lowered his wand," Harry told both her and Ron in confidence a few days after they left the Hospital ward where McGonagall gathered the Order and DA members who had been involved in the battle.

"He did?" Hermione brought her hand up to her throat. She was numb and didn't know what to think.

"I don't think he would have done it, to be honest," Harry said. Ron just sat next to them silently on the sofa in the Gryffindor Common Room. Everyone was notably quiet, subdued and grieving. Not just for the man but also for their own lives. Where would any of them find safety now?

Most students thought that McGonagall would become the next Headmistress of Hogwarts, but Hermione had her doubts. The Ministry was so close to falling, had been for months, and nearly all of the school governors were close personal friends to Lucius Malfoy. She had a feeling that things were about to take a much darker turn.

Hermione sighed and was lost in the memory of when McGonagall had pulled her aside and with Kingsley Shacklebolt asked Hermione what she was going to do this summer. Neither one of them were privy to Dumbledore's plan for her parents but both thought it inadvisable to return home for any length of time. Kingsley, in particular, tried to persuade her against going back. Said that he would be honored to host her until Harry was retrieved from his relatives.

It was a kind offer, and Hermione knew that it came from a good place. She told them she would think about it but knew that if her childhood home was still untouched by Death Eaters, she would want to stay in the home she grew up in, one last time. Even if her parents were not there to spend that time with her. Since she had already sent them to Australia over Christmas. Dumbledore had provided the funds for her to legitimately purchase the home in her name from her parents, going so far as to keep all of her childhood furniture, giving her parents enough to go on a spree of epic proportions. Hermione bit her lips. She had never properly thanked Dumbledore for that. Now, she wished she had.

She sighed and looked up, the Common Room coming back into focus and began wondering when Harry had fallen silent. Ginny was there behind Harry running her nails in his hair. Hermione's stomach clenched with regret, imagining blond hair instead of black, molten grey eyes instead of green. As angry as she was with Draco Malfoy, she still wished he was there. She wanted to be able to yell at him, throw things, rage against the fact that he repressed her memories of the cabinet. But he wasn't and her anger boiled impotently.

Ron was staring out the window and Ginny and Harry were distracted. It was a good time to retreat to her dorm and pack. Not that she really needed to, knowing a handy little spell. She knew that she needed to keep her hands busy, even if her mind was running in circles.

Now her path for the next year was solidly defined and she was thankful her parents were safely in Australia. The trio wouldn't be coming back to Hogwarts the next year, possibly never. That, more than anything, was difficult to wrap her head around. To let go of the dreams she had for her life and accepting the fact that she probably wouldn't make it out of the war alive. The statistics of all three of them living was incredibly low. So low that even hoping for it was a mistake.

Horcruxes. Several of them. At least one of the elusive artifacts was an object that they didn't even know what or where to look. A bread crumb of a clue. An artifact of either Ravenclaw or Gryffindor. Something that hadn't been seen or heard of in living memory. It is what Voldemort excelled in, impossible albeit amazing magic, even if he did more than just lean towards the Dark Arts. The locket, the cup, Nagini, something of Ravenclaw or Gryffindor. The litany tumbled from Harry's mouth frequently enough for the list to be seared into her brain. As if she needed the constant reminder.

Evil. Deranged. Unstable. How much of Voldemort's personality was because of the Horcruxes? How much was just him? She shook her head and wrapped her arms around her middle, standing to look out the window. So much of her time was spent at this window, staring out into nothing.

Hermione wondered vaguely how Dumbledore knew so much about Horcruxes. There weren't any books in the library. She was quite sure because she had looked. Hermione rolled her eyes and thought jokingly to herself that he probably kept them right behind his desk out in the open as a taunt to Voldemort, knowing he wouldn't look that closely at Snape's memories to notice.

Feeling snarky, she lifted her wand and said, " _Accio_ , Horcrux books,"

She shook her head and snickered. If it were only that easy. However, her snickering abruptly stopped the moment two books flew through the window. With a furiously beating heart, she stuffed the books in her trunk, looking around nervously even though she was alone. Barely even looking at them long enough for the title to register.

The next week was a blur as she attended first Dumbledore's funeral, then rode home for the last time on the Hogwarts Express. Since her friends didn't know about her parents, and she didn't bother to correct them, they assumed that she was going to go home for the first part of the summer. Deep in the pocket of her jeans sat a tiny scrap of paper, a gift from Kingsley, the address to his secret kept home if she needed him.

The ride was both too quick and eternally dragging on. A weird pall was cast over every single occupant, no matter their leaning. Finally, Hermione couldn't take it anymore and pulled her robes off, stuffing them in her trunk, glad she had chosen to wear her muggle clothes underneath.

And as the train rattled to a stop at Kings Cross, Hermione pulled Harry into a hug. His arms wound around her, hands stroking where they rested against her arm and waist. This could be the last time they saw each other. Every time they broke company from now to the end of the war they were faced with these risks. Ron walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around them both, resting his head against her back.

"Be safe," Harry murmured to them both. At least for this summer, Harry had Auror protection that would follow his muggle family home. Ron and Ginny would be with Bill and Mr. Weasley. Hermione would be utterly alone.

Ron pulled away and grabbed his trunk, cutting his gaze back to his two best friends who were still holding each other for everything they were worth. He nodded his head and smiled minutely before heading out. Ginny popped her head in. "Ready Harry? I will walk with you until you are with your Aunt and Uncle,"

"Give me a minute," Harry said to Ginny. Then he pulled back from Hermione, sweeping his thumb over the stray tear that leaked from one of her eyes, and softly whispered to Hermione. "You don't have to come,"

She laughed and smacked his arm. "There is no talking me out of this, Harry James Potter,"

He smiled at her and moved away to grab his trunk, slipping his free hand into Ginny's.

Hermione took a deep breath and shrunk her trunk, fitting the whole thing in her beaded bag. It was mostly empty, echoing, and cavernous but that was to be expected. She had only successfully placed the undetectable extension charm on it earlier that day. Soon enough it would be filled with everything they would need to survive.

When she got out to the platform, it was nearly empty, and her lips twisted in a mockery of a smile. She crossed the boundary and walked into the muggle world completely alone.

The moment she was clear of muggles, she apparated, landing five houses down from her childhood home. Smoke permeated the air and ash floated lazily on the breeze, looking for all the world like dirty snowfall. For one crazy minute, she thought it  _was_  snow. But it wasn't. It wasn't.

Her home had burnt to the ground and she felt the teasing of a notice-me-not ward. Walking closer, she saw what all of her neighbors would not. MUDBLOOD! Carved into the stone walk where she had skinned her knee trying to ride a bike when she was five.

If this wasn't the death of a childhood, she didn't know what was. Then, it started to rain.

**HGHG**

Draco sat on the edge of his bed, wrapped in only a towel, his wet hair dripping down the sides of his face. Other than an uncaring utterance of 'so you weren't murdered,' Draco had been practically ignored by the Dark Lord. And he took it for the gift that it was. There was no great celebration. No awarding of favors. No plans to get Draco trained up.

As much as he could tell, the Dark Lord felt he needed several more years of schooling before becoming truly useful. Draco was good with that. However, he was still expected to attend meetings, sitting next to both his parents. His father was still not favored and was still tortured on a regular basis.

There were mutterings when the Dark Lord wasn't around that he wasn't nearly as stable nor as generous as the first war. No one would dare mutiny of course but there was dissatisfaction.

Draco closed his eyes and thought back to the previous night, knowing deep in his bones that it was the most important conversation he had ever had. He just didn't know why yet.

Uncle Rodolphus had come up to the family wing, seeking respite from Aunt Bella who was again trying to seduce the Dark Lord, right in front of him. Lucius would usually clap the man on the back and offer a tumbler of his finest Firewhisky but Lucius was down below, receiving yet another punishment. Draco wasn't sure what he was being punished for any longer and neither did any of the others. Another reason for their unrest.

"Uncle Rod?" Draco murmured upon seeing the man enter his personal sitting room.

"Draco! Mind if I join you?" Rodolphus gestured to the whiskey.

"Sure," Draco set aside his drink and set about pouring a healthy amount of alcohol in another crystal tumbler before handing the glass off to his Uncle.

"Happy Birthday," Rod said as he took a sip, sighing at the sweet burn of the smooth whiskey as it hit his stomach.

"Thanks," Draco muttered, picking up his own drink.

"To seventeen," his uncle said raising his glass in salute. Draco lifted his as well before knocking the rest back. Rod was looking at him with a raised brow and a half-smile, grabbing both empty tumblers. He walked to the dry bar, took the decanter, and filled Draco's glass right to the top before filling his own in the same manner. Finally, placing the whiskey between them on a low table.

They sat like that, drinking in silence for a long time, both of them watching the dancing flames of the unnecessary fire in the grate. The only sound to break the lull was the clink of crystal as Rod refilled their glasses from time to time.

"In the beginning the rewards were massive." After what felt like an hour of silence, Rod began to speak with a voice roughened voice, still staring into the fire. "We, the select few, rode high on our successes and commiserated on our failures. We were punished when the Dark Lord felt we deserved it. But we are the elite of the wizarding world, the most promising of all others. Family wealth concentrated amongst just the few of us in the inner circle. It felt as if we controlled the world. Owned it, if you will. There was a clear ideal that we were working towards. Muggles were stepped on, used, like useful bovine. They had a place in the order of things. At the bottom, catering to the whims of their more powerful wizarding overlords."

He took another mouthful of whiskey, a slightly glazed look in his eye.

"Isn't that how it still is?" Draco muttered.

"No," Rod shook his head. "They are still thought lowly but our focus had finetuned onto the Mudbloods by the time I was ready to join my father at the Dark Lord's side. They were the only threats, the ones with the power to change everything, the ones who wanted to fight back. Many of our fathers, the original Death Eaters, felt that Mudbloods should be subjugated and used. My father was fond of keeping a Mudblood toy. He would strip her the ability to bear children then spend the rest of her life acting out his fantasies. Wasn't the only one either. For a time, it was the  _it_  thing to do. Not that the wives knew." He snorted into his drink before draining the rest. "Those were the days. Autonomy and power. Keeping the filth where they belonged. Enslaving their magical children. That is the world we fought for. That is the world he promised us. That isn't the world he is shaping. Not anymore. The first time our lord fucked my wife, he gifted me a jeweled cup that harkened back all the way from Hufflepuff herself. He thought he could buy my understanding. That was my wedding night. A pureblooded wife I was not allowed to touch. Ironic, right?"

Draco looked at Rodolphus with a sick look, not wanting to know the particulars, yet it was like a deadly accident, he couldn't look away.

"Now," he continued three sheets to the wind. Even though he was drunk, he didn't slur his words. "when he liberated us from Azkaban, she was the first to receive his welcome. They were in there alone for two hours and before the doors opened, and it was clear she had just sucked him off. They didn't even try to hide the evidence trickling down her fucking chin. This time he looked at me with those damned red eyes flashing, challenging me to say a word about what he had done to my wife, the wife I was still forbidden to touch. He made that very clear only moments later. His only consolation was that he would make sure Rab made a good match so he could breed. What if I wanted to be a father? No longer was I 'rewarded' for my sacrifices. Now I was expected to fall in line."

Draco made a noise; he wasn't sure if it was commiserating or horrified and took another sip to give his mouth something to do.

"What can you do against a powerful man who can't die?" Rod muttered leaning his head back against the chair and closing his eyes. "Makes me almost wish I could have a Mudblood of my own. At least I would get some pussy that way. Wouldn't mind Potter's Mudblood - Hot tight body she has. Bet she is untouched, too. Potter wouldn't have the balls to bend her over and take her,"

Draco's grip on his glass tightened until his knuckles turned white. He struggled to remain calm. There was no way he was the only one to notice Hermione's curves. It had been plastered across the front page of the Daily Prophet; Hermione in that pretty robe that showed her mature curves as she pressed into Potter's side, other hand wrapped in Weasel's, tears leaking down her cheeks at Albus Dumbledore's funeral. A goddess.

When his mother had heard the furniture break against the wall that night, she had come running and watched as Draco systematically trashed his room. And despite her frantic questions and bids for him to stop, he continued destroying everything. He couldn't tell her or anyone else why. Draco didn't think his heart could break any more than it already had but he had been wrong.

Seeing her in Potter's arms wrecked him.

A knock at the door brought him out of his reverie, his heart ached at the remembrance of his loss. The lingering memory of Rodolphus and the night of his birthday melted away until he was once again sitting on his bed in his room.

"Draco?" His mother pushed open the door and took in the fact that he was still in a towel. She was worried about him; he could tell by the fear on her face.

"Yes, Mother?" he asked quietly.

" _He_  wants us to attend tonight's meeting,"

Draco swallowed and looked down at his hands that sat palm up in his lap. They looked pristine - his ivory skin unblemished, and his nails neatly trimmed. Shouldn't there be some sort of physical representation of what he had done? His hands should be stained bright red so that everyone could see exactly what he was capable of.

**HGHG**

Hermione stood dripping wet and vulnerable on the unfamiliar empty street, seemingly looking at a vacant lot. She should have gone to the Burrow, should have retreated to lick her wounds among people who cared for her. But she couldn't. Even now, months after casting the  _Obliviate_ , she still couldn't confess to her crime. Not to them. Not yet.

Being brave was the first step, she told herself sternly and began walking into the field, disappearing before the eye of anyone who was watching. Strong wards pulsed around her, and with the confidence of one already brought in the charm of the Fidelius, she entered. They rippled around her, alerting the owner of her presence and even before she was able to lift her fist to knock, the door was pulled open.

Kingsley was frightening and powerful. His eyes narrowed; his wand clasped in his strong hands. She imagined that was why he made such a formidable Auror. He was intense and strong. The moment he recognized his visitor, his face softened, and he reached out a gentle, welcoming hand.

"Hey Kings," she murmured.

"Hermione? What are you doing here at this time of night?" He pulled her inside and looked around before he shut the door.

"You said to come if I needed. I need." Her voice hitched and to his credit, he didn't ask her a million questions. He merely pulled her into a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around her even though she was soaked to the skin.

"What happened?" he asked after a few minutes.

"My house. It's gone,"

"Gone?"

"Burned to the ground," she said dispassionately.

He closed his eyes, sorrow on his face. "Did your parents…"

"They are safe and sound," she confirmed.

Kingsley nodded and tightened his hold. "Want to talk about it?"

Hermione shook her head. If only the rain could have washed away her sins, then she wouldn't have to admit to any of it. Although she was glad that she listened to Dumbledore and moved them sooner rather than later, she still felt as if she was the murderer of her own family.

Kingsley let her go and led her to a small furnished bedroom, stacking towels and pulling out hygiene products that she might need. He handed a bottle of his body wash over sheepishly, unnecessarily explaining that he didn't have anything else.

"Thanks,"

He nodded. "If you need anything, let me know,"

She smiled at him, a smile that didn't even come close to reaching her eyes and nodded. When he left, she prepared for bed and sank into the soft down as if she hadn't slept in days. It didn't take long for her to embrace wonderful oblivion.

…

Hermione groaned, feeling as if she had been hit by a truck and rolled onto her side, trying in vain to avoid the bright light filtering in through the window. She gave a start. Kingsley was there next to her bed, head resting on his arms, sleeping. Looking around, she noticed the empty potion bottles and a basin with a rag over the edge.

Her movement must have jogged him awake because he inhaled deep and sat up, rapidly blinking the sleep from his eyes. Hermione was impressed at how quickly he shook off sleep, wondering if that was a by-product of being an Auror.

"Oh, thank Merlin," He murmured. Studying her face, he raised his wand and ran a slew of diagnostics.

"Was I sick?" she asked.

"You scared the hell out of me," he murmured. "Five days you have been out. But if you were only sleeping it wouldn't have been so bad. You had a fever and your body rejected many healing spells and potions which made healing you a feat of strength. I thought you were going to die,"

"Not dead," she said, grateful for his solitary watch over her sick body.

He ran a big hand over his face and patted her blanketed knees with the other.

"What about work? Did you have to miss work?" Hermione asked in a panic, thinking that someone had to be with her at all times if she were as sick as he claimed.

"I took the week, but I did inform Minerva of where you were. She was frantic when two days after you had left, she stopped by your childhood home. Must have missed my initial owl,"

"Or it had been compromised." She said feeling rather guilty at the inconvenience she caused.

"It probably was intercepted." He said calmly. "The Death Eaters would know now that you are with me. That doesn't change the fact that they don't know where we are. My registered address is on the other side of London."

"Thanks," she said.

He smirked, and rose, gathering all of the things that had collected on the bedside table over the week she had been sick. She couldn't help but notice how fit he was under his tight t-shirt and pajama pants. Tearing her eyes from his six-pack, she caught his amused albeit interested look. Blushing from the roots of her hair to somewhere far below her neckline, she looked away and barely caught his low chuckle.

Like hell, she was ready for that, not with how raw she was about Draco.

"I'll bring you something to eat," he said kindly, arms full of stuff. He left her and she buried her face in her hands. What was she going to do now?


	13. Draco's Last Will and Testament

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to CJRed who alphas this story!
> 
> Updates every Thursday!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr as JessiyL for chapter by chapter teasers if you are into that sort of thing.
> 
> School started last week for us, and for those of you who don't know, I homeschool my kiddos. Anyway, our first week was the most amazing first week I think we ever had in all these years of homeschooling. It made me so hopeful for the coming year, such high expectations bloomed in my mind. Then this week happened, and I felt the laughter of God like a physical quake. It felt like we were trapped in a perpetual Monday where no one got enough sleep, and everyone was grumpy. It is Thursday, right? Asking for a friend…

**Chapter Thirteen- Draco's Last Will and Testament**

Draco rose as if from the dead with the darkness surrounding him, and sleep fell from his mind instantly. Suddenly it was clear, so clear. Rodolphus had said  _what can you do against a man who can't die_. A man who can't die, he repeated to himself. Why would he say that? Unless the Dark Lord really couldn't die. But that was impossible. Wasn't it? But what if it wasn't?

Throwing off his blanket, Draco nearly ran for his father's study, hoping that at this time of night it would be deserted. He was to be disappointed, however, when he saw the light of a roaring fire beat back the shadows under the door. Unwilling to be dissuaded in his quest for answers, he knocked anyway, and heavy footfalls rounded the desk, making their way across the room.

"Draco?" Lucius' abused throat rasped. Draco looked at his father in surprise. His usually long hair was limp and dull, and the bruises under his eyes stood in sharp relief against his sallow face. Cuts marred his flesh here and there; several of them wept with infection. He was thin, too thin, with robes that hung from his frame as if they belonged to someone else altogether.

"Father," Draco whispered, devastated to find him in such poor condition. He had seen his father at the Dark Lord's side, it was true, but he hadn't had an up-close view for over a year. The sight was sobering.

Lucius opened the door wider, a dead look in his eye, letting his son pass. "Everything okay?"

Draco debated internally. How strong was his father's Occlumency? In the end, he decided that he couldn't take the chance to ask his father what he wanted to know right out. He would have to find out what he needed to, without using words that might bring the attention of his master.

"I was just thinking about something and I wanted to talk to you about it,"

Lucius nodded and closed the door behind Draco before making his way back to his desk and Whiskey.

"Care for a drink?" Lucius asked as he sat, raising the drink to his lips. Draco shook his head. He needed to be on point.

Sitting on the chair in front of his father's desk, he felt eleven all over again, getting his very first lecture on what a Malfoy's duty was and what behavior was expected of him while he was at Hogwarts.

"What is going to happen to our family?" Draco asked, looking up into the measuring eyes of his father.

"What do you mean?"

"When this is over, and we win. What will that mean for the Malfoy's?"

Lucius took another drink and seemed to think about his answer as if it were the weightiest of subjects. "I don't know,"

"Will we still be at the top?" Draco pressed.

"We are not at the top now," Lucius croaked, taking a large pull of his drink.

Draco nodded and went on. "What if I don't have a son?"

"You will," Lucius said firmly. Draco couldn't tell if he meant it or if he just strongly hoped for it.

"What if I don't?" Draco continued to press.

"Our Lord will make sure your wife is pregnant before sending you on missions. Before you were born, that is how it was with me. Your grandfather served while I did my duty to the House of Malfoy."

"I don't have a wife," Draco said. "What about our Lord? Is he planning on having a son?"

Lucius hissed in shock, air streaming between his teeth as he inhaled his shock. "Draco,"

"What if something happens to him, what will we do?" He tried to make it sound like he was worried about something happening to their master.

"He fell once and was brought back, more powerful than ever," Lucius said flatly.

"No one can live forever," Draco continued, watching his father's face twitch. "What if he can't be brought back?"

"This is not something you have to worry about, Son. Our Master will not be going anywhere."

"But,"

"Listen," Lucius said furiously, the first spark of life in his eyes since he opened the door. "Our Lord has taken steps to ensure that he will never die, not truly. These concerns of yours are unfounded. As long as we find our way back into the Dark Lord's good graces, our family will flourish."

"Should I take steps too?" Draco leaned forward and asked, trying to infuse his face with the fear of their house ending. He wondered how well his father truly knew him. Would he see through the inquiry, the faux fear, to see his underlying desire?

Lucius snorted and walked over to the swinging bookcase. Quickly, he dismantled the wards and opened the hidden safe behind it. There, he drew out a slim book that was bound in something that suspiciously looked like human skin.

After replacing the wards on the safe, he handed Draco the undoubtedly illegal tome. "Everything you need to know, is in here,"

"Okay," he said trying not to look repulsed.

"And Draco," Lucius said as Draco slid the book in his robe pocket and turned to leave. "Just because there is a way, doesn't necessarily mean you should use it. From what my father said, this spell causes just as much damage to the caster as it does to the victim. If you have any questions, you can approach Abraxas's portrait. He dabbled in the darkest magicks with our Lord,"

Draco nodded but Lucius was already back to his Whiskey, knocking back the three fingers still in the glass. It was then that he truly appreciated his father. Without coming right out and asking, his father had given him all the information he would need. To do what, neither of them voiced. They didn't have to. Lucius seemed to understand his need to divulge information without getting any in return.

Before Draco knew it, he was back in his room. With a swish of his wand, the room became illuminated and he set complex wards on his door. He had no desire to be disturbed. Draco flipped through the book, disgusted as each spell that he came across was worse than the one before, but finally, three-quarters of the way through he found it. Horcruxes.

There was only one thing to do now. He would retrieve the Dark Lord's Horcrux - Hufflepuff's cup that sat in the Lestrange Vault in Gringotts. He turned the page. The only question that remained was how he was going to destroy it once he had it in his hands.

**HGHG**

"Ready?" Kingsley asked as Hermione finished putting her things away into her beaded bag.

"Yup," she murmured.

"Impressive," he said, pointing to her bag and she flushed, remembering that he was an Auror and the magic that kept her hoard untraceable and extended was illegal. He grinned at her, a wicked gleam. "Don't worry. I won't say a word,"

Hermione snorted and stepped into his embrace. They could have apparated separately, but Kingsley had convinced her that together, they would cause less alarm. Since they were going to brush the wards of the Burrow and all, and they wouldn't want the Weasley's to panic. She agreed, allowing him to wrap his arms around her to pull her into his body. She narrowed her eyes on him. She was sure that holding her that tightly wasn't strictly necessary.

However, he was a perfect gentleman and let her go the moment they were back on solid ground. He couldn't completely suppress his semi-hidden smirk though. Not that he tried. When he stepped up to the wards, he laced his fingers with hers, pulling her through the enchantments that kept everyone and everything away.

"Kingsley!" Molly yelled happily, waving him over. She took Hermione in her arms and hugged her. "I heard about your home. Are you okay?"

Hermione looked into Molly's concerned face and searched her eyes. She seemed sincere, and maybe she was, but if she was, then how come her concern didn't come before she Obliviated her parents? Knowing that casting any blame on the Weasleys were unfair, she struggled to hide the resentment.

"I'm fine," she said softly.

"Minerva said you were sick,"

"Kingsley took care of me,"

Molly's brows rose to her hairline and she pursed her lips in quiet disapproval. "You should have come to us, Dear,"

"I was too shocked to apparate," she said truthfully. But that wasn't the whole reason, not that she planned on telling Molly that.

"It's not exactly proper for you to seek shelter from a single man,"

"It's Kingsley," Hermione protested, and Kingsley winced, both from Molly's disapproval and Hermione's dismissal.

"Since you were sick, there wasn't likely anything to have happened. We will just keep this to ourselves,"

"You don't want me to say anything to the boys?" Hermione asked, a little bit shocked.

"These things are best kept quiet. Rumors can be nasty things," Molly said patronizingly.

"Nothing happened, Molly," Kingsley said. Hermione flashed him a grateful smile, unable to stand another minute in that mess of a conversation. "And even if it did, we are both adults,"

"She is still a student," Molly protested.

"You think she will be going back to Hogwarts next year?" Kingsley asked.

"She is only seventeen!"

"And I am only twenty-five!" he frowned. With his head he nodded for Hermione to go inside, blocking Molly's path. "I wouldn't hurt her,"

"You are a good man Kingsley; I wasn't saying you weren't. I was merely concerned for Hermione's reputation."

"Everyone who matters knows the truth," he said. Hermione turned the corner and promptly ran into Ginny who had been lurking around the corner.

Ginny flashed her a smile and wagged her brows. "Kingsley?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and snorted, mentally preparing for the onslaught of questions that would come at bedtime. "Where is Ron?"

Ginny's face fell as if she  _was_  hoping for some sordid details. "The attic."

"Thanks," Hermione said and patted the younger girl's shoulder in commiseration as she passed.

She peeked into the attic from the stairs and noticed that Ron was sitting on the floor with his back pressed against the rough wood wall. His wand was dangling by his fingertips as he stared unseeing at the ghoul that lived in the attic. Hermione looked sadly at the sight that met her eyes. The ghoul had been transformed into an uncanny likeness of Ron but with large purple pustules on his skin. Both the ghoul and Ron looked miserable, mirrored to each other.

"Hey," Hermione murmured soothingly, sliding down the wall to sit next to her friend.

Ron looked up for the first time, his sharp gaze focused on her. He smiled, stressed.

"What's this?" Hermione asked, waving her hand over to the ghoul.

"Dad says that the Ministry will fall any day now. You should see some of the laws they intend to pass. Hogwarts will be compulsory, a Muggleborn registration," he snorted angrily, red splotches appearing on his neck.

Hermione smiled benignly. It wasn't anything she wasn't expecting.

"If going to school is compulsory, I have to come up with a legitimate reason that I am unable to attend if I am going to protect my family. Everyone expects me to go with Harry, you know, but I can't make it so cut and dry."

"I understand," Hermione murmured patting him on the shoulder. And boy did she understand. Perhaps it was time. Hermione took a deep shaky breath. "I obliviated my parents so they wouldn't remember me or magic or the war. I moved them to Australia where they can be safe."

He looked at her with the horrifying realization that her parents had been, pretty much, sitting ducks. "When?"

"Before I came," she murmured. It wasn't exactly a lie. She hadn't been back to the Burrow since she did it.

"Hermione," he said sadly, pulling her into a tight hug. "Harry and I will always be your family,"

Hermione nodded, desperately trying to hold back the tears. But after several deep breaths, she broke. For months, she had been holding in her grief. And to top off all that, Malfoy had wormed his way into her heart, into her soul. He was a lying liar. And she should have listened to her head at the very beginning when she warned herself away.

Eventually, she pulled back and reached into her bag and pulled out a box of tissues, dabbing at her swollen eyes and runny nose. "Thanks, Ron. I didn't realize how much I needed to cry,"

He looked uncomfortable as if he wanted to comfort her but just didn't know how. His gentle eyes showed uncharacteristic understanding. Losing Dumbledore had done that, matured him a bit.

"Ron, Hermione? Lunch!" Molly called up the stairs.

"Okay?" Ron asked.

She nodded. It was a lie of course but she wasn't sobbing anymore. Did that count as being okay?

**HGHG**

Narcissa stood in Draco's room looking lost. In her trembling hand was a brief note.

_Mother,_

_You once told me if I found a way, to take it. If I make it back, I will apologize for merely leaving a note. If I don't, please know that I love you and that you were a wonderful mother. I will never be able to thank you for that. I know how difficult it was to be my buffer._

_In the case of my death, there is a box in my personal safe. It is keyed to be opened only by the one woman I desperately would have liked to make my wife. Someday, find her and give her that box. Please?_

_Your Loving Son,_

_Draco_

The rest of the world could go to hell, Narcissa thought, crumpling the parchment in her hand. She would do whatever it took to make sure he survived the war, and since his last request was to get that box to the woman he loved, she would move heaven and earth to see it done.

Gliding into his study, she opened his safe and smirked because he wasn't as good at hiding things as he thought. Not with her anyway. She wouldn't have to wait for the wards to fall after his death. Reaching in, she pulled out the only thing in the safe, a box that was about the size of two ring boxes high by four wide, and wondered what could be in there.

Truly it didn't matter. Narcissa would do just about anything to find the woman he wanted and when she did, she would have a betrothal contract ready.

**HGHG**

Draco stood outside the Lestrange vault, nervously pacing. It had taken an exorbitant amount of Goblin artifacts, promises, and gold to just get down to the vault, let alone get inside. Two goblins stood before the door, undoing the incredible number of wards. Breaking them down. One by one.

"Mr. Malfoy," One of the Goblins said, gesturing to the now open vault and Draco nodded his thanks, swallowing nervously.

He looked around in distracted interest, looking for anything that matched up with the grainy photo he had of the artifact. There didn't seem much of interest he noted as he glanced at the piles of riches scattered around the vault. Then his eyes landed on the Sword of Gryffindor.

"Is that…" he turned to a Goblin who looked at the sword and smirked.

"That is not the Sword of Gryffindor. That is an excellent but wizard-forged copy."

"Wizard made?" Draco muttered. "Do you know when it was made?"

"Months ago?" the Goblin sniffed disdainfully. "The stench of Dumbledore's hand is too much to ignore. He probably found the original Goblin drafts for its creation and tried to duplicate it,"

"Why would he want to do that?"

"Why don't you ask him?" one of the Goblins sniggered.

Draco rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Even if this sword is a fake, does it have properties that I am unaware of?"

The Goblin sobered and looked at him searchingly. "Gnarlack, why don't you go ready the cart,"

"Griphook, we were told to stay with him. Watch him. Make sure we get our due."

"Leave," Griphook said nastily and the other scurried to do as he was bid. He turned his attention back on Draco Malfoy. "That sword is nothing but an ornament. The real one carries the taint of Basilisk venom."

Draco froze. Basilisk venom? Convenient how the sword had imbued one of the very few things that could kill a Horcrux. What was even more curious was that Dumbledore seemed to know this before his death. Did that mean that Draco wasn't the only one hunting the Dark Lord's Horcrux? It was an uplifting thought, to be sure.

"The cup though," Griphook continued, pointing to a high shelf in the very back, almost hidden. "That is  _sentient._  It watches. It listens. And with an ounce of encouragement will ensnare the mind of the beholder."

Draco nodded. This is why the Goblins accepted the bribery. They knew. They knew and they shook, cowering in their Goblin halls. For as bad as things were for them under the previous regime, under the Dark Lord things would be so much worse. This would be their contribution to the wizarding war. And they expected him to remember it when everything was all said and done despite the riches already paid.

Draco walked in amongst the treasures, deftly weaving through the haphazard piles of gold and artifacts, only stopping when he was directly below the shelf. Griphook was there next to him, handing him the hook often used in the older vaults.

The moleskin he received for his seventeenth birthday from Uncle Rodolphus was going to come in extra handy, he thought as he gently lowered the cup into the dead useful pouch. Draco handed back the hook and strode from the vault, feeling sick to his very core.

The clink of metal behind him told him that the Goblin came through, crafting a replica that could fool anyone except another Goblin. It wouldn't do to get caught before he had all the pieces in place.

He wasn't strong enough nor knowledgeable enough to cast Fiendfyre on the cup without destroying himself. There was only one thing he could do. He would have to find the true Sword of Gryffindor while at school.

**HGHG**

Hermione sat at the kitchen table where Mad-Eye and Kingsley discussed the finer points of the plan to remove Harry from his Aunt and Uncle's house. The conversation had turned lively fifteen minutes ago when Mad-Eye suggested they use Mundungus as their final Potter. Most of the people in attendance were deeply opposed to it, and Hermione had to agree. She didn't put an inch of faith in the man. He was the one who absconded with most of Sirius's possessions after he died. Everyone knew Sirius hated his family stuff, but it all belonged to Harry. It was the principal of the thing.

"Well, I am not going to be the bastard who has to get him out of there," Kingsley said point-blank. Still refusing to accept the newest addition.

"Look, Kings, it was his idea about the polyjuice and using decoys. Utterly brilliant!"

"And when was the last time Mundungus was brilliant? Mad-Eye, you out of all people, I thought would be the least likely on board."

"I have to agree with Kings, Mad-Eye," Arthur said. "The man is unreliable at best."

"What if the idea wasn't his?" Hermione said, causing the whole table to go silent.

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked. "That someone gave him the idea?"

"Yes,"

A silent battle of wills took place between Kingsley and Mad-Eye before Mad-Eye turned to the table at large. "I will use  _Legilimens_  on him. Make sure it was his idea,"

Hermione rolled her eyes. The ones capable of implanting the idea were competent enough to be invisible in Mundungus's mind. Clearly, she was outvoted as assent reluctantly came from the rest.

Kingsley looked across the table at her, an anticipatory gleam in his eye. Hermione looked away and blushed, wondering when he began to be interested and how was she going to let him down nicely.

Once the plan was set, all they had to do was wait. Harry's birthday was three days away.

**HGHG**

Draco walked into his bedroom and tossed his robes over the chair in the corner, the moleskin hidden as close to the skin as he could get it, knowing that it was utter madness to bring the thing into the Manor when the man himself was in residence. His choices were limited but he planned on taking the thing with him to Hogwarts.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy!" Narcissa said in a scary voice and he cringed, knowing he might just die by her hand.

"Mother," he began but lost confidence somewhere in the first syllable. Her nostrils were flaring, and he swore her eyes flashed red.

"What is this?" she said holding up the small note, unworthy of a son's goodbye.

Draco grimaced, wishing she would have let him shower first.

"What if someone else came across this? What if they brought it to the Dark Lord? You would have been hunted just as much as Potter," she raged.

He refused to hang his head in shame or let her belittle him as if he were a child. "There is nothing of import in there,"

His mother laughed bitterly and held the letter up to her face, reading the first sentence with anger and mockery. " _You once told me if I found a way, to take it._ Did you not think that would raise alarms? Did you think I would be safe from his wand or mind? He would want to know what you are talking about!"

"The only ones who can enter my rooms are you and father," he said dismissively.

"And if the Dark Lord requested it of your father? Could he refuse?" she said softly, dangerously.

"There is no reason why the Dark Lord would want to. I was counting on that,"

There was no more to say on the subject. He was stubbornly unrepentant. Narcissa pulled the box out of one of her pockets. "Who am I looking for? I could spend years approaching all of the women in our circles,"

Draco sat on his bed and ran a hand through his hair. He trusted his mother implicitly and he knew her Occlumency was just as good as his own. Still, he hesitated to name the woman the box was keyed for.

After all, he didn't think she would like what was inside. He shook his head.

Narcissa approached him and squatted in front of him, dropping her dragon-like anger in favor of worry and love. "Draco, I promise that I will accept whoever it is,"

"You say that now," he shook his head.

"My son, I love you more than my own life and things are not like they once were. I think we both know that. Old prejudices… are not as important as surviving this. Is she…" she paused and took a breath, " _will_  she be able to protect you when this is over?"

Draco was torn. Admitting to it would mean that he fancied someone from the other side. Even then she would assume his connection was a Pureblood. He nearly snorted. If she only knew. But as he studied her open and loving face, he wondered if she would be glad for him. He wanted her to love Hermione the way he did. Would she?

"If we survive and things turn out… favorably, yes. There would be no one better able to help me. If she doesn't hate me, that is,"

Narcissa's brows rose in tandem. She leaned in and with a choked whisper muttered, "Granger. Hermione Granger?"

He rocked back as if struck by her delicate palms, eyes wide in fear. "How?"

She chuckled breathlessly. "I am your mother; did you think I didn't notice your increasing focus on the girl?"

"Oh, Merlin! Does father know?" Fear clutched at him, threatened to pull him under in a haze of depressed preoccupation. All this time he thought he hid it so well, but everyone close to him was able to figure it out on the first guess.

"No, my Dragon," she chuckled. "Your father thinks you hate her. Then again, if he were a woman, he would know,"

"And you are okay with my choice?"

"She is powerful and though her bloodline is unfortunate, it wouldn't be the first time a pure family took fresh blood and hide the truth," She reached out and stroked his hair, studying the boy who had turned into a man right in front of her eyes. "What is in the box?"

He laughed uncomfortably and looked away, bringing his hand to comb through his hair again.

"Draco?" she said a little sterner. "If you want me to deliver this in the case of your death, you need to tell me what I carry,"

"A letter, a box of sugar quills, a ring, an incomplete wedding certificate that needs only a signature to become binding, and twelve vials of frozen sperm," he looked away.

Her breath left her in a whoosh, and she sat, heavily, on the floor at his feet. Placing the box on the floor between her knees, she lifted her own shaking hands to her face. "You really were preparing for your death,"

"I want to do my duty to this family but only if she is my son's mother."

"What if she doesn't want to do that?"

"Then is the Malfoy name really worth saving?"

"Draco!"

"Mother think about it," he said tiredly. "no matter what side wins, the Malfoys will not benefit. We are feared, loathed on both sides. If she is my wife, the name will mean something again."

"And that is why you want her?"

He laughed harshly. "Merlin no! I want her because I love her, and she is it for me. It wouldn't be fair to marry anyone else when she has me. Heart, body, and soul."

"Then we are going to have to do what we can to protect both of you,"

"I've been trying to protect her for months,"

"This way out that you have found, will it put you squarely against him?"

"I hope that he won't know about that until the moment right before the end," he whispered.

She nodded, determination in her gaze. Narcissa picked up the box and pressed it into his hands. "We will ensure it,"

**HGHG**

Hermione threw a nasty cutting curse over her shoulder at the masked Death Eater that doggedly followed her and Kingsley away from four Privet Drive. With a bellow, her enemy fell, blood spurting from the gash over the artery in his neck.

All of a sudden, Voldemort was there,  _flying_ , wand pointed at her face. Harry's face.

" _Protego,_ " she said, enveloping the entire Thestral with the powerful ward. As she looked into the red, inhuman eyes, she lifted her chin in challenge, defiance, and curled her upper lip in derision.

It was the first time she was directly opposed to Voldemort and she refused to show any fear. Even if the sick ball of it was coiling tightly in her stomach.

Her Occlumency shields held firm as he tried to gain entrance, and finding his way blocked, he narrowed his eyes. They promised attention, personal attention, to the powerful pretender. He fell back, still watching her, before turning his gaze to another of the Potters that had scattered the moment Death Eaters apparated in the air as the protections fell away from Harry's childhood prison.

Of course, with those shields, she wasn't the real Harry and Voldemort knew it. But in protecting Kingsley and herself so powerfully, she feared she had caught his interest. At least he didn't know exactly who she was, even if he had suspicions.

**HGHG**

The floor under Severus Snape's knees was hard and getting even harder by the minute. Sweat beaded his brow and he wondered how he could be so hot and cold all at the same time.

A small, barely perceptible indrawn breath from his left drew his attention but he dared not turn his head to look. Theodore Nott sat in an identical pose and Snape was still wondering why he was there at all.

"You should have brought him to me months ago," The Dark Lord said harshly, and the loud grind of teeth was the only indication that Nott Sr. was at all in pain.

"My Lord, I have been working on procuring him a wife. I had fully intended on having him initiated once the Nott line was secured."

"Did you have so little faith in me that you would withhold him from my service?" Voldemort continued quietly.

"My Lord?" Nott asked in confusion. "This is how it was with me, with Lucius, with Rodolphus. We all were married before entering into service."

"Then I suggest you make it happen sooner than later. Or I will not wait until he is trained to send him out on missions,"

A beat of silence followed by, "Yes, My Lord,"

"Leave,"

"Thank you, My Lord,"

From Snape's side, Theodore Nott was pulled to his feet with a grunt. The boy was a hairsbreadth away from being marked and Snape struggled not to show how upset the knowledge made him. He hadn't been able to keep Draco out of the line of fire, but he had hoped that recruitment of the younger generation was still years off. This latest intelligence showed him just how wrong he was. He had grown hopeful over the years of being in Dumbledore's service and it was a detriment to him now.

Occluding was something that came to him naturally, but it was something he honed with single minded focus and the need for it during this meeting was no different than any other time. He lifted his head to meet his master's eyes the moment they were alone in the room.

As natural as Occlumency came to Snape, Legilimency came even easier to the Dark Lord. In theory, Legilimency was not supposed to be felt by the people whose thoughts were being perused. It was Snape's long-held theory that the Dark Lord's invasion was painful because he meant it to be. Every single time.

Snape hissed as his master sank below the carefully crafted layer of inane memories and searched for the more interesting one beneath. Especially those memories of Dumbledore's last months.

Once again, the Dark Lord pulled out of his brain, unsatisfied because no matter how long he looked, no matter how much force he used, Snape seemingly had nothing of import to show him. Still, he looked at least once a week. Perhaps hoping to catch him unaware. Snape was not by any means surprised at the show of the lack of trust. Bellatrix, the Dark Lord's staunchest supporter, had taken to whispering about Snape's disloyalty in their master's ear.

And she wasn't wrong.

But to find the proof, would take more understanding of Snape's heart than any Death Eater, bar Draco, would have.

When he was able to focus on the floor in front of him without falling, Snape rose and bowed to the Dark Lord, stopped only by the hissing voice that echoed around the chamber.

"The Governors have named you Headmaster," he said, a pleased trill in his otherwise raspy voice. "Congratulations, my most loyal of servants,"

Snape smiled, a pleased victory upon his lips. The truth of his feelings didn't matter but the show of pleasure was required, nonetheless. "Thank you, My Lord,"

By the time he was sitting in the Headmaster's chair in Hogwarts, he marveled at the thought that he hadn't been put under the Cruciatus. It was a first, to leave his presence unscathed. A perk of being the current favorite. However, he wasn't nearly enough of an idiot to believe that such magnanimous dealings would last.

"What did Tom want?" Albus Dumbledore asked from his portrait on the wall.

"A warning and a gift. The gift for killing you was to become the Headmaster of Hogwarts as we had hoped. The warning was that he would take any of the students and press them into his service as his whim willed. Not even I would be able to prevent it,"

"Who?"

"Theodore Nott. But it was my understanding that he would be the first of many."

"And Draco Malfoy?"

"What about him? He has been ignored as best as I can tell,"

"Think of this as the calm before the storm. To think, he had spent the last year hoping I would forcefully break down his defenses and save him so that he could claim that he had been beaten by me, avoiding the harshest punishments from Tom. That was the angry hope in his mind anyway. I wish I hadn't just left him alone. That night on the Astronomy Tower when he had fairly pushed his thoughts at me, I couldn't believe all he had done to be caught. I must admit that I just thought he was scared and was making mistakes,"

"He was,"

"But it was a cry for me to save him and his family,"

"Don't get all sentimental on me now, Albus. The boy is a Slytherin. He was scared and angry and wanted to be able to be with Miss Granger without consequences. I have no doubt that he wanted you to save him at the end but we both know that in no point during the year would he have taken it. Because he didn't have to repress Hermione Granger's memories. She could have opened doors for him then."

Albus sighed and sat back on his oil-based chair. "True. However, I think it will be only a matter of time before he defects. When he does, it will be on you to help him,"

"Haven't I always done what I could to help him? I even took an unbreakable vow for him,"

"True enough, but if what I saw in his mind was any indication, he loves Miss Granger more than his own life. He will have to choose a side in the end and if I am not much mistaken, he will choose hers." Albus said. "Let Victus Malfoy give him just the right amount of information."

"What kind of information?" Snape asked, eyeing Victus' empty frame.

"The kind that could change everything," Albus said with a twinkle in his eye.


	14. East Wing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A million Kudos to CJRed, the alpha for this story.
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr, JessiyL, for chapter by chapter teasers. If you are into that sort of thing.
> 
> Updates every Thursday!
> 
> In loving memory of my nephew, Brian.

**Chapter Fourteen- East Wing**

"It is clear that I have been disappointed again," The Dark Lord hissed.

Draco flinched as he kneeled in front of the Dark Lord. The older Death Eaters that were in active service littered the floor around him, twitching as they tried to recover from the Cruciatus curse and regain their position on their knees.

"My Lord," Yaxley groaned, the first to regain his prostrated position in front of the Dark Lord.

"I want a list of everyone who could have been the fake Potters. And if you can't even do that…"

"The Ministry will fall tomorrow. We plan on torturing Scrimgeour and getting the information you seek."

"Do not fail me,"

"Yes, Master," he bowed low, head pressed to the floor.

"Draco," the Dark Lord murmured.

"My Lord,"

"Not all of those Potters were in the order. Some, I would wager, are his brave little friends. Tell me about them,"

"His friends, My Lord?"

"Yes, his friends the Mudblood and Blood Traitor. Tell me about them,"

"Well Weasley comes across as an idiot, and I think that is probably true enough but from what I know, he is a dab hand at strategy,"

"Good. And the girl?"

"She is intelligent, picks up magic quickly. Beats even me out at exam time every year," he said. It wasn't hard to list her accomplishments, but he wanted to bring as little attention to her as possible. But as Draco looked up, he realized that it was not to be, the Dark Lord narrowed his eyes thoughtfully and stroked his chin.

"What was her name?"

"Granger. Hermione Granger," Draco said, dropping his gaze back to the floor. Now wasn't the time to fall apart, he reminded himself, pushing all thought of her back into the protected core that he guarded with every fiber of his being.

"Granger," the Dark Lord repeated. "It would have been her. Strong. Stronger than many in this room. Too bad she is a Mudblood,"

No one dared say a word, hoping to keep their furious master's attention on anything or anyone else.

"Dolohov,"

"Yes, My Lord?"

"You have gone up against the girl. Tell me, what did you think?"

"She lived after I used my purple flames." He said simply.

The Dark Lord nodded as if that meant something and pursed his lips. "Lucius?"

"My Lord?"

"What did you think of her?"

"If she is with Potter, she will keep him safe enough. That girl survives against all odds, just like Potter."

"You think she will evade me?" The Dark Lord asked, amused.

Lucius's face drained of blood, but a resigned look entered his eyes. He prematurely hunched as if he was expecting to receive punishment sooner rather than later. "Yes, My Lord,"

"Draco come here and show me the power of this girl,"

With carefully suppressed emotions, Draco pulled forward memories of shared classes, the punch from third year, and those times his friends and hers dueled in the corridors. He hoped it would be enough to stop him from delving further. He stood and approached the throne, head bent.

Long spindly fingers cruelly bit into his jaw as his master forced his head up, eyes to connect with the inhuman red of his own.

The Dark Lord slid into his mind easily, watching each memory as if beguiled, seemingly studying her each and every move. Though he watched her when she successfully cast difficult spells, it was the moments right before, that enthralled him. When he got to the memory of Hermione punching Draco, he chuckled, and pulled out of Draco's mind with a small smile on his lips, the most frightening thing Draco had ever witnessed.

"Make her Undesirable Number Two. I want a chance to rip into her mind. Bring her to me alive," he said to the room at large. "Leave,"

He said, waving his hand. No one moved faster than those who had suffered the most under their master's wand that day. Draco walked backward until he was a good five feet away before turning his back on his master.

Things were getting so much more dangerous and Draco needed to come up with a plan to protect Hermione. He needed a way to block anyone from finding her, but he wouldn't be able to do that from the Manor where he was kept like the child he was. Clenching his teeth, he began to grind. There was only one solution. The next time there was a mission where she was likely to be, he needed to volunteer. It would change his participation in the war from a kid who was forced once as a punishment for his father's mistakes, to a man who willingly chose to fight with the very side that he didn't want to win.

It was very likely Hermione would receive his box long before the war was over.

Unable to stand being closed up in his room, Draco walked into the Eastern wing. The only part of the house that looked as dead as his master should be. With a flick of his wand, he moved through the blood-wards that blocked it off. It was in disrepair, webs of living and dead spiders stretched from one side of the corridor to the other like ghostly banners, a specter's fanfare. No furniture graced the wing and he wondered again, and not for the first time, why this portion of the Manor hadn't simply been refurbished. It wasn't as if they didn't have the money to do it. And why in nine hells, was his Grandfather Abraxas's portrait situated in the farthest room in the most abandoned part of the derelict wing?

Draco's shoes echoed eerily, each tap echoed dully and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. It sounded as if someone was following, walking behind him. But every time he turned, nothing moved except the strands of webbing that he disturbed with the breeze of his passing.

" _Lumos_ ," Draco murmured as he reached the very end of the hall, floorboards flexing and groaning under his weight. To the right was the door he sought, and he turned the knob, hesitantly stepping through.

The only things in the room were a life-sized portrait of Abraxas Malfoy, that leaned precariously against the crumbling fireplace mantle, and a much smaller portrait of Victus Malfoy, former Headmaster of Hogwarts five hundred years ago.

"Grandfather?" Draco murmured quietly, almost afraid to disturb the crypt-like atmosphere.

"Draco, My Boy? Is that you?" Abraxas's deep voice cut through the darkness; beckoning Draco closer.

He smiled as affection rushed through him. His Grandfather had been a wonderful man in his life, doting on him, spoiling him above and beyond even his mother.

"Grandfather," He said happily. He had only visited once after his grandfather died and wondered why he didn't move through the other portraits in the Manor. It was strange for a wizard to stay confined to his own frame.

"How wonderful to see you!"

"You too," Draco smiled and studied the young man who was depicted as a twenty-year-old.

"What brings you by?"

"Father told me that if I needed to talk about a sensitive topic- about the Dark Arts- I should come to you,"

Abraxas sighed and covered his face with his hand. He looked ashamed but Draco wondered if it was the poor lighting that made it appear that way.

"What do you want to know that your father won't talk about?"

"The Dark Lord has risen once again. Did you know?"

"Lucius informed me, yes,"

"Then you know what I want to talk about."

Abraxas closed his eyes, fisting his hands at his side. "Horcruxes," It was said painfully as if the mention brought up something unpleasant and egregious. Victus Malfoy shifted in his own portrait, the first sign of life.

Draco nodded.

"That is a dangerous line of questioning. I'm not sure you understand the ramifications of walking down this path."

"I understand exactly what this means,"

"You would risk your life, the whole Malfoy line? For what?"

Draco sat silently, jaw aching from how hard he clenched them together.

"Ahh," Abraxas said with a smile. "Who is the lovely lady?"

Draco glared at the floor. Hermione was one memory he jealously guarded and didn't share with anyone. Not his loving mother. Not his aloof father. Not his personal diary. Nothing and no one.

"Come, come. I can't do anything from here,"

"You could say something to the wrong person,"

"Why would I do that?" Abraxas said.

"Maybe she won't live up to your ideals?"

"What is she, a squib?"

"No."

"Muggle?"

"No."

"Weak?"

"No!"

"Then who cares?"

"What if she were a Muggle-born?"

Abraxas smirked, showing exactly how close in relation the two men were. The expression was identical to the one Draco often adopted. "Is she powerful?"

"Very,"

"For the right price, she could become a pureblood,"

"Everyone already knows what she is. They hunt her even as we speak."

"There are spells, dark spells, that can ensure her inclusion. Clues could be left. Facts created and planted. And suddenly the information is 'found' that your woman is just as pure as you are,"

"I'm starting to doubt my own purity between my mother's words and yours,"

"You should. If you were truly pureblooded in the way society means, you would probably have two heads and wouldn't have survived past infancy."

Draco opened and closed his mouth, unable to speak.

"Our family is just much better at hiding these instances than other families. Mostly because we know the spells to make the change into a fact. Though dark, they are effective. The others just lie, and everyone pretends not to know."

"She is too well known," Draco murmured, heart pounding.

"Yeah, because a wizard has never stepped out on his wife, never impregnated his mistress, never encouraged the woman to 'rid herself' of the child. More children were adopted into the muggle world in this manner than most would like to believe."

"It doesn't matter. She would never agree to anything even remotely resembling a dark spell,"

"Then you are just going to have to marry her in secret."

"I have a box," Draco began quietly.

" _Mors Arca Archa_ ," Abraxas said knowingly. "The Death Box. It was popular four hundred years ago when wizards went off to fight foreign wars and needed to make sure their line continued. Very romantic. Make sure you give that to her sooner, rather than later. If you are determined to put the Malfoy line in jeopardy, someone should at least be able to revive the line,"

"Can we get back to the topic at hand?" Draco said, shifting in his seat. Now that the idea was planted in his brain, he was having a hard time not imagining his sperm in her hands. Would she be repulsed? Or would she tear up when she realized he put his entire future in her hands?

"Such a rush to carry fatal information," Abraxas said, rolling his eyes. "What do you want to know?"

"The book gave some ways in which they can be destroyed, not as a means of actually destroying the things, but to instruct the wielder on how strong of protections they must use to protect them."

Abraxas again looked pained. "Yes,"

"I am not able to cast Fiendfyre and I don't have a basilisk handy. How would I go about destroying one?"

Abraxas tilted his head as if seeing his grandson for the very first time. His lips twitched up and his eyes shone with muted pride. Victus's penetrating gaze pinned him down, a calculating look on his face.

"The book mentioned that remorse could heal his soul," Draco added, hopeful.

Victus began to laugh bitterly. His voice a croak from disuse. "A desperate wish of a desperate woman. Was that bit printed by press into the book or was it handwritten?"

"Handwritten," Draco furrowed his brows confused.

"Let me tell you a story. Sit,"

Draco waved his wand and the overstuffed chair from his personal room appeared. Once he was settled in, Victus began.

"First I will start out by saying that there are two copies of that book. The one you have is the original, written by me. The other was published after my death by my wife."

"I lived over five hundred years ago. Back then it wasn't as frowned upon as it is now to dabble in forbidden magic- wild and unimpeded. The darker the better was the motto of many circles of the day. Magic was magic was magic, right? Even then among those dark wizards, I was feared. I was revered. I was Victus Malfoy, one of the men responsible for the creation of the Wizengamot and some of the most basic laws of the current ministry. I sat at the very top of the pecking order. Order of Merlin, First Class. Hogwarts Headmaster. The third Minister of Magic."

"Did you make a Horcrux?" Draco asked heart pounded uncomfortably as fear coalesced. Was he on the hunt for Horcruxes of more than one person? Was he destined to hunt Horcruxes for his entire life?

"Once," Victus said with another bitter laugh. "Don't worry, it has since been destroyed."

Draco nearly slumped back in his chair, the relief was immediate, and it made his face tingle.

"My wife seemed to think that remorse would have saved me from the eternal damnation I walked into. She was wrong. I  _had_  regretted what I had done. Remorse was my constant companion in those last days."

"Then how can I destroy it?"

"Anything that will destroy the container to such a degree, it becomes unsalvageable. Fiendfyre and rare venoms without antidotes are the only means I was able to find."

"I've heard a rumor," Abraxas cut in. Draco looked up at his life-sized portrait. "Before I died, the Chamber of Secrets was opened at Hogwarts. That year a priceless artifact appeared. The Sword of Gryffindor. A destroyed diary was handed to Lucius. A diary that I know for a fact was a Horcrux."

"He made more than one?" Draco choked, repulsed and struggled to forget the images from the book Lucius gave him.

"What do you mean he made more than one?" Abraxas said sharply. "What do you know?"

Draco narrowed his eyes. What a way to word that question. "What do  _you_  know? Are you still the Dark Lord's devoted follower even after seeing our house nearly brought to ruin? Is there more that I don't know, Abraxas? Are you going to run to your master and tell him what I am doing?"

"Of course not. You are the heir, the only heir. The House of Malfoy must not fall," Abraxas said rolling his eyes before he turned serious. "Even though I wasn't a part of his knights until after he graduated from Hogwarts. I was with him on his world tour. Months into the tour we ended up in Albania, seemingly by accident. He would go off on his own every day. Trust me, the others were not opposed to it. They spent two weeks in a brothel, drowning in liquor and pussy. It was a week after we arrived that I came up for air. No one else cared what Tom was up to, but I was curious. What normal man would trek through the woods day after day when the women were young and plenty and so damn pretty?"

Draco's brows rose to his hairline and he leaned back and crossed one leg over the other.

"I was there when he found what he had been looking for. Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem. Turned out that the clever little bastard charmed the knickers right off Helena during his seventh year, becoming the only man to ever do so, getting the only thing of worth from her. The whereabouts of her mother's treasure. At first, I thought he was going to kill me when I approached him as he held his prize. Instead, he had me fetch someone that nobody would likely miss. He made promises of showing me magic that I would never get to see otherwise.

Those promises were fulfilled that night. He never explained exactly what he was doing but I was a Malfoy.  _Secrets of the Darkest Art_  sat on my bookshelves. He didn't have to tell me, I knew,"

"And that didn't bother you?"

"Personally, I was repulsed but at the time I shrugged it off. To each their own. He had a vision for the magical world, a new revolutionary vision, and I was on board. Never in a million years would I have made one of my own."

"Three," Draco muttered to himself before asking, "What happened to it?"

"He planted his new Horcrux at Hogwarts in the Room of Hidden Things when he went to apply for the Defense post. Even though he knew Dumbledore would never agree to give him the job. Instead, he had used the opportunity to keep his most precious artifact safe."

"Fucking Room of Hidden Things. Figures. It is the only place that Dumbledore never thought to look in on from time to time and I know for a fact that there was some pretty questionable shit in there." Draco shuddered. "Why would he make more than one?"

"He is not exactly the sharing type," Abraxas said acerbically.

"Three is a powerfully magical number," Victus said.

"Yeah but so is seven, and if he has three Horcruxes and a body, his soul is split into four," Draco said. "If he could make more than one, what would stop him from making it magically significant? What if there are seven pieces? How in the world could I find them?"

"You think he made six Horcruxes?"

"I don't know!" Draco yelled, frustrated, feeling the weight of such a monumental task.

"Tom was always intentional about these kinds of things," Abraxas said. "I think it is safe to assume that he made six."

"There is a way to tell if an object houses a soul," Victus said slowly. "If you learn how to recognize the magical taint, you will be able to locate the objects."

"How can I learn to do that?"

"I suppose you will need to get your hands on a Horcrux," Victus said.

Draco reached inside of his robes and pulled out the large moleskin pouch. With a gentle click, he set Hufflepuff's cup on the floor between his feet.

"Fuck me," Abraxas said.

**HGHG**

Hermione twirled this way and that in front of the full-length mirror that graced the back of Ginny's door, smoothing the flattering red dress over her curves. It hugged her in all the best ways without seeming indecent. The neckline was a straight line over her collarbones, the hem to her knees. The back was another story, it dipped, showing her shoulder blades. Though she was unable to wear a bra underneath, she felt supported just from the way the fabric was cut.

"Wow, Hermione," Ginny said giving her a whistle and a wink, walking in the room with her bridesmaid dress already on. Hermione smiled and laughed.

"Harry already down there?"

Ginny grimaced. "Yeah. Do you know how confusing it is to have feelings for a guy, but he looks exactly like your annoying cousin?"

"It's not permanent,"

"Thank Merlin!"

The girls giggled before linking arms and walking down to help wherever they were directed by Molly.

Hermione sat next to Harry during the actual wedding and dabbed at her eyes constantly. The whole thing was beautiful, making her heart clench as she envisioned her own wedding that might not even take place. The vision wouldn't leave her; her in white flowing gown, Draco in a tux…

"Are you okay?" Harry asked. Hermione nodded. She was doing that a lot lately, saying she was fine when she wasn't.

Once the ceremony was over, Harry helped her to her feet, gallantly holding her by the elbow. She flashed him a grateful smile and watched as magic quickly turned rows and rows of chairs into a flat dance floor surrounded by small tables that were fully decorated, name cards on each charger.

The band began playing and the dance floor was quickly taken over by a myriad of Weasleys, young and old. Harry linked his arm with hers and wound through the tables until they found their names. Barny and Hermione. Right next to each other.

"Vould you like to dance?" asked a heavily accented voice from behind her shoulder. She looked up at a smiling Viktor Krum, her first crush.

"I would love to," she murmured, chest clenching. Why did she always think of  _him_? Especially now, as she stepped into the arms of another man. When she heard stories about heart break, everyone failed to mention the longing that wouldn't go away.

Viktor slid a large hand around her waist to lightly press against her lower back, pulling her closer. Gently she placed a hand on his broad shoulder and allowed his other hand to clasp hers. He leaned in and she was inundated with his scent. It was light with just a touch of musk. It was appealing and not heavily applied. But Hermione felt like a traitor, even as her own nose rejected the wonderful smell. Viktor may have smelled pleasant, but he didn't smell like Draco, whose natural maleness drove her absolutely wild, especially when he added a touch of his own cologne.

They moved through the steps of a foxtrot. She was just grateful to have been given lessons the summer after fourth year. She had complained to her parents that she had been embarrassed at the Yule Ball when it became clear that ballroom dancing bled into the high society of the wizarding world. Viktor had been a wonderful partner, moving through the two dances she had known before showing her discreetly some from his homeland. No Hogwarts girl would be expected to already know them, he murmured in her ear. She flashed him a pleased smile and became the attentive learner she had always been. Of course, Viktor knew about the lessons, having kept up as pen friends ever since.

After the second song, Hermione could only laugh in pleasure and he swept her into an unnecessarily grand waltz, taking up the entire border of the dance floor, forcing dancers to move out of their way. But as soon as the song was finished, he escorted her back to her seat. She needed water and maybe some sustenance. Ron was there, picking at a whole tray of hors d'oeuvre that he nicked from one of the servers.

Viktor left her there with a smile and a wave, his eye on one of Fleur's Veela cousins. Hermione watched him with a fond smile, glad that he knew there was nothing other than friendship between them.

"You don't care that he has gone to flirt with someone else?" Ron asked, his voice carefully neutral.

"No. Why should I?"

"Isn't he, your Bulgarian bon-bon?"

"My what?" she asked snickering. Ron turned red and looked at her as she laughed. He looked dazed and Hermione turned around to see if one of Fleur's other cousins stood behind her. The only person she saw was his ancient Aunt Muriel. The one who told her that her ankles were frighteningly skinny.

She turned back around to see that Ron had stood and held his hand out to her.

"Want to dance with me?" he asked softly.

Hermione bit her bottom lip. She wanted to say yes. Wanted to have fun. But not if it meant that he thought a dance was more than just a dance. When he smiled at her, she slipped her hand into his. She wasn't going to think about these things until later.

They weren't on the dance floor for more than a handful of seconds when Kingsley's Patronus appeared in the center.

"The Ministry has fallen. Run!"

Immediately, men in black cloaks and silver masks apparated in, wands blazing. One casting a strong blasting curse that sent the dancers flying. A few of the stronger wizards and Order members put up enough of a defense so that others could grab the children and elderly, and apparate away.

Hermione struggled to her feet, pulled her wand, and frantically searched for the boys. A strong hand grabbed her shoulder and dragged her down behind a table. She nearly screamed as she looked at her captor. A Death Eater whose face was covered in their signature silver mask. His hand covered her mouth and calm immediately washed over her. A wave of apples and sandalwood rushed over her, and she leaned into his palm, getting a better look at the grey eyes behind his mask. She would recognize his scent anywhere, like a cat to catnip.

The moment he had his hands on her, he cradled both of her hands, closing them over a beautifully handcrafted black leather book with gilded edges. "Protect this with your life," he murmured, his breath disturbing the tendrils of curls that escaped their original confinement in a low chignon.

She looked at him for a moment, gauging the amount of trust she was willing to put into him again. But the sound of Harry telling them that Draco had lowered his wand on the tower was at the forefront of her memories. Her feelings about him were all over the place. She wanted him. Loved him. Was absolutely furious at him. Still, she pulled out her beaded bag and stuffed the gorgeous tome into the impossibly small opening. Didn't mean she forgave him.

Draco watched the book disappear into the tiny bag with a smile and shook his head in amusement. "That's my girl," he said approvingly.

He cupped her face and looked around to make sure that none of his side could see them before lifting his mask just enough to capture her lips. The kiss was just a soft press against her lips, and he seemed to sink into the table, pulling her tighter against the wooden shield. His tongue slid out, tracing over the seam of her closed mouth.

Her heart felt as if it was going to explode. He was here, in front of her, and finally, for the first time, the loneliness abated. It felt good to be held by him again. Soon enough, sense was regained, and she pulled back from the kiss. Behind his thick dark lashes, his grey eyes stared at her with so much longing and hope.

She smacked him across the face, the crack getting lost in the noise of the skirmish. Leaning in and pointing her finger at his face, she whispered, "You have some nerve! After repressing my memories of what you were up to last year and everything else!"

"I deserved that," he murmured caressing his stinging cheek, looking for all the world like he wished he could take it all back.

"Yes! You did!"

"I'm sorry, Love," he crooned, eyes searching hers. "I shouldn't have done it. I knew that the moment after I cast the spell."

"Don't give me that garbage," Hermione whispered angrily. "You could have come clean with me at any time. Instead, you avoided me, let Nott take the brunt of my questions, and when you could no longer hide our association, you told me just enough to keep me hooked on you. Never once did you mention why you repressed my memories. You just made it seem like it was our safety,"

"It was," he said in a strained voice.

"It was the fact that you were fixing the cabinet to bring Death Eaters into our school!"

"He would have killed my mother if I failed,"

"I could have taken you to Dumbledore. I could have helped protect you and your family!"

"But not before he could have killed my mother. Do you think I didn't consider it carefully? I wanted Dumbledore to find out. I wanted him to save us. Is that what you want to hear? But how could I have approached him without immediate consequences?"

"You could have trusted in me!"

"You are right. I never regretted not reaching out for you more than I did standing opposite Dumbledore on the Astronomy Tower," Draco said quietly.

He hung his head. It was clear he had regretted repressing her memories. And who knew better than Hermione about what he was going through last year? What would she have done if she had to do something for Harry and the war, and Draco found out? Who would she be willing to forcefully Obliviate in order to keep them safe? Her throat clenched. Hypocrite, her mind cried.

She reached for him then, her hands shaking as she ran the tip of her finger over the bridge of his nose, over his lips. Hermione couldn't help the slight softening and didn't protest as he cupped the back of her neck and pulled her back to his lips again. His tongue swept in her mouth, needy and fierce. Dominating her. Wanting her. Begging for her forgiveness. She clenched her thighs together desperately. As the battle raged around them, her adrenaline spiked. Suddenly she was kissing him back just as passionately. She wanted to drown in his lips. Hermione dropped her hand from his face and ran her fingers over his thigh, forcing a quiet groan from his throat.

"When this war is over, you can punish me however you see fit." He murmured.

"Then you better live Malfoy! I won't be denied my due,"

"I'm counting on it," he whispered, pulling his mask back in place. After looking around for another moment he waved to their left. Behind the next table over, Ron and Harry were looking at them with shocked and accusing expressions.

"Go!" Draco whispered to Hermione.

She didn't need any more encouragement. Hermione ran to them and with a quick twist, pulled Ron and Harry into the suffocating compression of apparition. The surprisingly sweet tingle of a  _protego_  fading from her back.

**HGHG**

The moment Hermione was gone, Draco aimed his wand at the sleeve of his robes. " _Diffindo._ "

Sounds of the battle quieted and Draco rubbed a bit of dirt on his robes. When he felt that he was sufficiently disheveled, he stood from behind the table and visibly shook his head as if he was just coming to. He looked around. Dolohov smirked at him with his mask in his hand and waved him over.

"You did good, kid, for your first battle. Those Order members will sometimes catch us unaware with something surprisingly nasty. I'll be honest, you lasted longer than I thought you would,"

Draco nodded and removed his own mask, earning a clap on the back. Looking around he noticed that there were no prisoners, no casualties. Their master wouldn't be happy. So why was Dolohov so pleased?

"Let's go back, yeah?" Dolohov said as he pulled Rowle to his feet after a quick  _rennervate_.

Draco nodded and wound his arm around Yaxley who looked out of it with a decent sized gash over his right eye.

"'M fine," Yaxley slurred.

"Sure, you are," Draco muttered before disapparating.

More and more Death Eaters arrived at Malfoy gates behind him and as a slow procession, walked to the front door. They flooded the dining room, their Lord sitting on his high throne, looking pleased.

He searched through his servants and beaded in on Draco. A nod was more than acceptance, it was recognition, and the Death Eaters around him glanced at him with barely repressed resentment.

They weren't in the room long before their marks pulsed. Someone broke taboo. And Draco had a pretty good idea of who the idiot could possibly be. Potter. It would always be Potter.

"Dolohov, Rowle. Bring them to me,"

"Yes, My Lord," They bowed in unison and pivoted, leaving the same way they arrived. The Dark Lord left from the door to the garden, Nagini slithering behind him.

Draco made the solitary trek up to his room and fell on his bed still fully clothed in his Death Eater robes, his mask hanging limply from his left hand, asleep before his head touched his pillow.

_Smoke filled the air and Draco struggled not to choke on the acidic particles. Dead bodies laid everywhere. Some he knew, others he didn't. Blood ran from the masses, congealing in a slick lake in the middle of the slight depression. He was frantic, searching. Searching. Searching._

_Unable to yell, he continued picking his way_ _through the macabre field. Weaving through the dead as a man possessed._ _Every time he saw a feminine form with a mass of curly brown hair, his heart stopped. But so far of the three dead women who shared similar features, none of them was her._

_Inching his way toward the sounds of battle, he kept his wand at the ready, not knowing which side would be aiming their wands at him next. Rock crashed to the floor like rain, footsteps moving as the battle became fevered._

_Draco stepped onto the edge of the last battle. Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, the last of their side, stood back to back. They were in the center of a circle made by the Dark Lord's best and most brutal followers, their master at their head._

_Hermione faced the entirety of the_ _Death Eaters_ _, keeping all spells from hitting Potter while Potter was holding his own against the Dark Lord. Draco watched impotently as he stood there knowing that something had to give. Someone had to fall._

_A yell of triumph left the Dark Lord's lips as Potter fell at his feet_ _. Draco couldn't tell from his vantage point if Potter was still alive or not. It was then the Dark Lord advanced on Hermione, who stood proud with her chin in the air, stepping over Potter's prone form_ _._

_The Dark Lord grabbed her chin and forced her face to_ _rise and meet his. Draco watched as he ripped into Hermione's_ _mind. He saw_ _the moment Hermione's_ _defenses fell, and whose_ _wouldn't under such brutal attack?_ _The Dark Lord tore his eyes off the girl and found Draco's all the way across the hall. His lips curled._

_They were fucked anyway, might as well die trying to save her, Draco thought. He raised his wand and his master did the same._

" _You think to rise against your master?" the Dark Lord hissed furiously._

_Words were unnecessary. He had to get to her. Had to press the inactivated portkey into her bleeding hands._ _He would send her to the last safe place on earth, his Fidelius kept house in France._

_He felt the spells as they missed him by inches._ _The proximity of them burned, and heated the air_ _, blasting more and more stone away from the edifice behind him. Then she was there, at his feet, holding onto the hem of his robes with fisted hands._

_He looked into the red slits of his master and smiled. Sliding a hand into her thick curls, he activated the portkey and with the pull from his navel, they were gone._

_The scene swirled away and changed, they were back in Hogwarts, in that abandoned classroom that he had come to truly appreciate the year before. They were both in uniform, robes thoughtlessly tossed over one of the dusty desks. His Oxford was unbuttoned, and her hands were tracing the curve of the muscles on his chest. She leaned forward, brushing her lips over the pulse in his throat._

" _I forgive you." She murmured against his skin and he buried his hands in her hair, pulling her face up to meet his._

" _You shouldn't,"_

_"I love you," she murmured against his kiss-swollen lips._

_Suddenly they were in his bed at Malfoy Manor, naked. Sweating. Her curly hair was spread out on his silver satin sheets and he couldn't help but stare adoringly at her body. She was everything he could ever want. With hard pink nipples just begging him to lean down and taste._

_She reached up between them, wrapping her small hand around his hard cock and began stroking._

" _Again," she begged. "Fuck me again,"_

_He reached between her thighs and spread his previous release against her needy flesh. With each pass, he teased her engorged clit, smirked as she began bucking her hips and whining with frustration._

" _Stop teasing!" She demanded, planting her heels in the sheets and raising her hips so that his hardened length was pressing at her core. "Please?"_

_He threw his head back and groaned, loving every inch he sank into her welcoming body._

Draco woke up with a start, a hand was on his chest shaking him with quite a bit of vigor.

"Wake up!" Narcissa said with urgency.

"What's wrong?" Draco tried to snap awake. Sitting up, he winced as his silver mask hit the floor with a crash.

"The Dark Lord summons you,"

He blinked away the sleep within moments, fear caused him to become alert. "Why?"

She shook her head, trying to hold back her tears.

Draco fairly flew through the halls. Had Draco been found out? Had Abraxas abandoned him and the House of Malfoy by informing his once master of Draco's new hobby?

When he reached the closed doors to the dining room, Nott Sr. and Crabbe's father stood as sentries. They nodded at him and let him pass, neither saying a word.

"Good of you to join us, Draco." The Dark Lord murmured silkily. Rowle and Dolohov were shaking on the floor where they sat on their knees. "Since I will not be sending you out on any more missions, I thought I could take over your training myself. Why don't you give Rowle a taste of our displeasure?"

Draco gulped and his breathing sped up until he thought he might pass out, but the Dark Lord was not in the mood to be treated lightly.

"Now, before you join them in receiving my wrath,"

Draco felt mechanical as he stepped up to Rowle. Every bit of humanity he possessed was now in the center of his core as he raised his hand. " _Crucio_ ,"


	15. Mors Arca Archa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to CJRed who Alpha read this story.
> 
> Find me on Tumblr, if you are into that sort of thing, for chapter by chapter teasers. JessiyL
> 
> Updates every Thursday!
> 
> I apologize for not responding to reviews but for some reason, I am having trouble doing that. I will keep trying but I wanted to say that I've read them and appreciate them <3

**Chapter Fifteen- Mors Arca Archa**

Severus Snape sat behind his desk; his hands already numb from how tightly he clenched his hands around his whiskey tumbler. This office and his appointment were a mockery of everything he had struggled for, had sacrificed for. For all of that, he wasn't a mess over being in the room and claiming it as his own. No, he had resigned himself to his fate last year, when Dumbledore bid Severus to kill him. The reason for his upset was that he had just returned from a meeting with the Dark Lord.

Apparently, Draco had decided to  _volunteer_. Snape sneered before taking a long pull of his drink. He had hoped the boy would stay cowardly in the background, allowing him to come out the other side of this war without a stint in Azkaban. Remembering the way that the Unbreakable vow shimmered on his wrist after the Ministry fell made him grit his teeth. It forced him to go to the Dark Lord and explain that if Draco died, so would he. Again. Luckily, he was favored at the moment and his Master acquiesced easily, if not with a macabre sort of humor.

"Don't be too hard on the boy," Victus said from his frame on the wall.

Snape startled violently and looked up at the smug expression of Victus Malfoy. The man almost never attended his frame.

"Decided to grace us with your presence?" Snape said sourly.

"Just because I choose to spend my time among my ancestors at Malfoy Manor doesn't mean I am not dedicated in my appointment to help the current Headmaster. Anyway," Victus looked from Snape to Dumbledore's portrait. "As you know, my other portrait sits in the derelict East Wing with Abraxas' horribly ostentatious portrait. Draco sought Abraxas this afternoon because of his knowledge. Of course, the boy had no idea what kind of expertise  _I_  could offer. He does now, however," Victus said smugly. "He knows what the Potter boy is doing, even if he doesn't know that Potter and company are actually doing it nor does he realize that they even know."

"How did that happen?" Dumbledore asked from his frame curiously.

"He is a sharp boy. Already had one in hand when he approached Abraxas,"

"Really?" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily as if this latest bit of information was the best news ever. "I was hoping for that when I asked Severus to give you permission to tell Draco certain information if he shows any sign of remorse that he would do the right thing. His love for young Hermione has done wonderful things for the boy,"

"What does he know?" Snape demanded, feeling distinctly left out. He knew Dumbledore had sent Potter on a mission but trusted that there was a good reason why Dumbledore kept the information from him. He had been told often enough that it wasn't about trust, it was diminishing the danger to Dumbledore's one and only spy. Didn't Dumbledore think the risk was even higher if Draco Malfoy knew? But hadn't he, Severus Snape,  _proved_  that he could hide anything and everything from his master? He felt a little bitter about it and was not at all inclined to moon about the epic romance between the swotty know-it-all and his impossibly stubborn godson. No matter how often Dumbledore liked to speculate if Hermione had indeed forgiven Draco.

"Once he returns to Hogwarts, he will need the sword," Victus continued.

"Severus will make it available," Dumbledore replied.

"I will?" Snape said calmly, eyes glittering with malice.

"Will you?" Dumbledore rebutted.

Snape closed his eyes. Once this war was over, he was moving to Leeds and he was cutting every strand of communication and Merlin help the people who try to cross his deadly wards. He would bury himself in the city, the best way to find autonomy. "Fine,"

**HGHG**

Hermione, Harry, and Ron found themselves at Grimmauld Place, surprised by the fact that it hadn't been overrun by Voldemort and his Death Eaters. The boys seemed to think that it was something of Dumbledore's doing but Hermione quite thought that Snape, despite killing the Headmaster, might be on their side. However, she kept this unpopular opinion to herself since the boys were currently angry with her.

Angry might not be the most accurate word she could use, she thought to herself, watching Harry out of the corner of her eye. When they had apparated away from the party, she had taken them to one of the busiest merchant streets in London, Tottenham Court Road. There, they changed and sat in a café that was empty. The book Malfoy gave her tucked deep in her beaded bag.

It wasn't long after that when two men had walked in and sat in the booth by the door. They turned out to be Death Eaters and Hermione wracked her brain on how they were able to find them so quickly.

Once the Death Eaters had been obliviated, Harry turned to her and said, "We will talk about Malfoy later," in an ominous voice. Together the three of them cleaned up the mess and left, deciding to take their chances at Grimmauld Place.

Ron seemed to accept the kiss with Malfoy that he had seen with a sad sort of finality, a wistfulness as he looked at her as if he regretted not making a move on her sooner. Harry, on the other hand, looked absolutely betrayed. She could see the questions forming and winced. He would want to know how far back things with Malfoy started and she knew she would have to tell the complete truth.

But to her surprise, confronting her was not the first thing he did. That night they camped down in the sitting room together. And though Ron offered her the cushion-less couch, she declined. Instead, she pulled the three cushions off and enlarged them until they were each the size of sleeping mats. Harry took each from her as she completed the transfiguration, laying them together side by side, all three in a row.

Ron and Harry sandwiched her, and she lay there unable to sleep staring at the ceiling. Ron was the first one to nod off, snoring lightly on the last cushion.

"How long?" Harry asked. Apparently, she wasn't the only one lying awake.

"It's complicated,"

"Good thing we have all night then, right?"

Hermione sighed. "At the beginning of last year, in the second or third week of school, I was patrolling the corridors. Ron was supposed to be patrolling with me, but he hadn't shown up. The rounds still needed to be done, so I went alone. I was in the seventh-floor hall when I heard something. Turned out to be Malfoy, who had a potion. A potion that he refused to show me. I ended up knocking him over while trying to get it and he hit his head really hard. The potion bottle also broke, spilling the contents all over the floor. You can imagine my horror when I realized what that potion was. The label said it was a 'Magical Boosting Miracle' but the label underneath said Experimental Amortentia."

"Were you affected?" Harry asked hopefully.

"A little I suppose. Not nearly as much as he was. It freaked me out at first, him adoring me. But it felt really nice. Not that I forgot who exactly was doing the adoring," she added quickly seeing the thunder clouds gather on Harry's face. "It didn't matter because nothing happened, and Snape gave him the antidote that night."

"So how did you get from accidental Amortentia dosing to kissing in the heat of battle while he was in his Death Eater robes?"

Hermione winced and took a deep breath. "I thought about him after that. A lot. I think that is one of the side effects to that particular brand of Amortentia. I think it amplified feelings that I already had and decreased all the thoughts that shouted at me that said he was a terrible idea. Both of us wondered at some point if the potion was still in our systems months after being dosed. But it wasn't. It was just the lingering side effects. It was the next day after the accident that he met with me secretly. We kissed," she blushed, knowing she was skipping over quite a bit. But she didn't think Harry could really take the shock of everything that went on.

"Did you know he was working for You-Know-Who?"

"I did at one point," she nodded.

"And you didn't say anything?" He looked furious.

Hermione debated for a moment of not mentioning that Draco repressed her memories but thought better of it. Draco made his own bed and she wouldn't lie about what he had done. If he ever planned on making it up to her, he would have to go through Harry first. "He used a spell on me that repressed my memories. They were still there; I just couldn't access them. I went about things as if I had no idea, he wasn't anything more to me then a schoolyard bully."

"He did what?!" Harry shouted. Ron rolled over and muttered in his sleep before settling and began to snore again.

Hermione held up a hand and started shushing him. "He could have obliviated me, but he didn't. There is more."

Harry clenched his teeth and nodded, unhappy but willing to listen.

"I will admit to having quite strong feelings for him by that time and it wasn't long before flashes of memories would come back to me. And much sooner than I think he wanted, I remembered him. I didn't have all my memories back but by that time, I knew we had kissed and met from time to time. I didn't regain all my memories until the night Dumbledore died. Bill's wedding was the first time I saw him since."

"That explains why you smacked him. After I saw you kissing and then smacking him then kissing him again, I thought the hit was because he was a Death Eater."

"I told him to stay alive so I could properly punish him," Hermione looked up at the ceiling, pink-cheeked, wishing that sentence didn't sound so pervy.

"He seemed perfectly happy to accept whatever punishment you had in mind," Harry muttered equally embarrassed. "But Hermione, he is a Death Eater, how do you imagine this is going to turn out?"

"I don't know," she murmured suddenly remembering the book he pressed into her hands. She wanted to run in the loo and read whatever it was he wanted her to see. Refraining, she laid stiffly.

"It won't end well. If his side wins, you will die or worse. If we win, how will he be acquitted?" Neither of them voiced what he thought would be worse than dying and Hermione was grateful that he at least spared her that. Harry, after all, knew quite a bit more about what Voldemort did to prisoners.

"You said Malfoy lowered his wand after disarming You-Know-Who,"

"He was still there at Bill's wedding,"

"Did you see him use magic against anyone?" she challenged fiercely. To her knowledge, the only person he used magic on that day was her when he cast  _protego_  on her retreating back.

Harry scrunched his face as if he had swallowed something unpleasant. "No," he sighed.

"I know for a fact that Draco Malfoy had little choice in fixing the cabinet last year. He had told me under the effects of Amortentia that You-Know-Who was living in his home and I saw evidence for myself that he was using Malfoy's mother as a means of controlling him."

"What evidence?"

"A letter from Lucius to Draco but it was more a threat from You-Know-Who."

"Lucius was in Azkaban at that time. He wouldn't have been able to send anything,"

"You-Know-Who had control of the prison since the Ministry Battle fifth year," Hermione said grimly. "The Dementors revolted. It was in the paper the day after."

"He hurt Katie Bell and poisoned Ron,"

"I don't know about those, but I wouldn't be surprised. He was under immense pressure."

"Are you going to justify everything he did?"

"He is our age. He didn't have the protection of people who stood against the dark. Draco Malfoy was groomed to be a Death Eater. I think Draco going against what he was brought up to be at all is a very good sign that he is not what we thought he was."

"He will have to really impress me if he thinks he is going to start something with you again," Harry said belligerently.

Hermione rolled her eyes. As if he had a say. "How would he do that?"

"I dunno, find and capture a Horcrux, maybe?" He said and they both snorted in amusement.

"I suppose we will revisit this conversation when the war is won," Hermione said.

"I'm going to give him hell on behalf of your father. You know that, right?" Harry said in a calmer tone. Ron had told him shortly after arriving at the Burrow about how Hermione had obliviated her parents. Hermione teared up and bit her lip.

Harry rolled over and pulled the blanket up around his shoulders. Once his breathing evened out, Hermione slid from her spot and grabbed her beaded bag. The bathroom had great lighting and Hermione sat on the lid of the toilet as she pulled out the beautiful book from Draco.

Where a title would usually grace the cover were the scrolling words of, _'Your favorite candy'_ instead _._

"Sugar quills?" she said unsurely and marveled that the book turned into a shiny black lacquered box.

The latch clicked and the lid opened. The topmost thing was a letter addressed to her. Under it sat a mostly completed marriage document filled out and officiated, blood even staining Draco's signature. She swallowed hard. The only thing missing was her own signature, her own blood. Under that was a ring box. She knew what it was, after seeing the marriage certificate but opened it anyway, gawking at the ridiculous sized diamond that graced the velvet. She shut it with a snap, eyes wide, breathing quick. Next to that, was an unopened box of sugar quills and she smiled softly, wondering when he had gotten them for her, as she doubted that he mail-ordered them while at the Manor.

Last, under all the rest was a rectangular box with so many cooling and freezing charms she wondered if he sent her an organ. But her snickering immediately stopped when she held up a single vial to the light.

The substance was milky white and frozen.

Carefully she replaced the vial and ripped into the letter that had sat on top.

_Love,_

_We have a few things to talk about, I know that. But in these times, this is the best I can do. Know that I care for you deeply and when this is over, I want the chance to explain myself. Right now, our relationship, though important to me, is not the reason for this letter. The risk I took just writing it down…_

_First, the Dark Lord has put a taboo on his name._ Do not say his name _! It will annul even the most powerful of wards and protective spells. It was in this manner that they found you that day after you left the raid on the Burrow._

 _Next, tell Potter not to rush off into battle to try and be the fucking chosen one._ He _has the means to stay alive, forever. They are called Horcruxes and I believe he may have six. I have one and soon, another. Maybe. I will destroy them at Hogwarts. Also, another of them is definitely destroyed. That leaves three unaccounted for._

Hermione laid down the first page and began reading the next.

_Lastly, I know you are wondering about the box that must be sitting on your lap. I know this is the worst way to do it, but here it goes. Will you marry me?_

_I know what you are thinking. That I've gone 'round the twist. I assure you that I have not. There is a very good chance that I won't live out this war. Don't protest, Love, we both know that the information I hold in my mind could be compromised under the right conditions. Being a Malfoy has always been a great source of pride for me, and yes, I know I was an utter prat because of that. That is why I have decided that the only way I want to continue the line of Malfoy is if you are the mother of the next generation. I think you would make a wonderful mum._

_In the freezer case at the bottom of the box are twelve vials of frozen sperm. In the case of my death, you have married me, and you want to, I have enabled a way for you to continue my line. I sincerely hope it does not come to that. I would be very disappointed if I don't have the chance to try for our children the natural way._

_If you want to marry me, put on the ring and sign the certificate, putting a dab of blood over top of it. It will become legal and binding, for the whole of our lives._

_Yours,_

_Draco_

_P.s. my mother knows of us and approves. She hopes to meet you under good circumstances but is braced for the worst. You have an ally in us. Never forget that._

_P.S.s This box is also a mini vanishing cabinet and can be used to send letters or anything really that can fit in the box. However, for security, that portion of the box will only awaken if you choose to marry me. I had to key the wards to the Malfoy line so that only a Malfoy could open the boxes. I will understand if you choose not to do it. With the hope that you will give me a chance to change your mind in the future, I will wait._

Hermione blinked away the tears that gathered on her lashes. She wanted to lash out at him, be angry, give him just a bit of the betrayal she felt when she realized he had used a spell on her mind. But like Harry jokingly said earlier, Draco would have to find a Horcrux to achieve forgiveness. Funny how that is exactly what he had done.

Unable to tear her eyes off of the certificate in her lap, her mind ran around in circles. It was madness to get married to a man on the other side of the war. A weakness that she didn't think she could bear if it hurt Harry in some way. She brushed her hand over the case containing his sperm and blushed, then covered her blushing cheeks. She knew what he had to do to get his release into those vials.

Hermione fanned her face imagining Draco Malfoy with his hand wrapped around his hard cock, her name on his lips. However, sperm was not a usual gift in which women swooned over. But it occurred to her that it was most likely his upbringing. He was raised with the belief that he was expected to continue the line and anything else was a horrible dishonor. The Malfoys were important, indispensable even, to Magical society from their point of view and knowing what his father believed she was inclined to believe that some of the values taught were learned. Perhaps this was his way of saying she could choose, married or not, him being alive or dead if the line continued.

She ran a hand over her hair, smoothing it out of habit, unsuccessfully trying to convince herself that she shouldn't want to finalize the marriage contract as badly as she did.

Again, she shook her head. She had to tell the boys, immediately. Carefully putting everything back in the box, except for the letter, she put the whole back in her bag. Though out of sight, it wasn't out of her mind.

Hermione flung the door open and ran to the sitting room. Draco Malfoy just became one of the most influential wizards in the war against Voldemort. Harry and Ron would have to bury their dislike of Draco long enough to admit that he was on their side.

"Harry, Ron! Wake up!"

The boys jumped up, wands in hand, battle-ready if a bit rumpled.

"What's wrong?" Harry said looking around the room for the intruder.

"You need to see this!" Hermione said, thrusting the first part of the letter under Harry's nose.

Ron rubbed his face and slumped back into the cushion he was sleeping on. "Bloody hell, Hermione,"

"And you believe this?" Harry help the portion of letter up. His face was twisted with disgust and suspicion.

"I… Harry, I believe him,"

"What has he done to you? Are you under some obscure spell of his? The Imperius?"

Hermione smacked him, tears welling in her eyes. Her handprint was a red welt against his pale face. "The letter is legit,"

"Well, excuse me if I don't believe it," Harry set his teeth obstinately.

Hermione pulled out the second part of the letter and threw it at Harry's stupid face. Even though it wasn't his business, he would stop questioning when he realized the lengths Draco was willing to go.

Up until that point, Ron had watched in silence, a strangely blank look on his face. He watched as Harry scrambled to catch the second part of the letter and reached out and plucked the first part from Harry's hand.

"Oh Fuck!" Ron said with a whoop, coming to his feet. His eyes shined bright and his smile was bigger than she had ever seen. "Do you know what this means?"

"It means that he found a Horcrux- No,  _two_ \- and knew what they were," Hermione said smiling through grateful tears. Hermione turned back to Harry who stood frozen and kind of green around the gills. He handed the second part of the letter back to her.

"Sorry for doubting you, Hermione," Harry said repentantly. She nodded and hooked an arm around his neck and buried her face in his neck.

"Which ones though?" Ron mumbled, rereading the letter in his hand.

"Not the locket," Harry said. " _We_  will find where that one is since it was here not that long ago. The diary and ring are destroyed, I wonder which one he knows about."

"The diary," Hermione said excitedly and pulled away from Harry. "You gave it back to Lucius, didn't you?"

"Fuck yeah!" Harry punched the air the same way Ron had earlier, finally getting excited. Their long slog through memories and half clues might be closer to being over than they ever imagined. "Do you think he knows about the snake?"

"I don't know," Hermione said, thinking. "He might not. But if he figured out this much on his own, he will find out about the snake eventually."

"Do you know what this means?" Harry said. "If we get the locket and Malfoy takes care of the two that he has and we get the snake, that is all of them!"

"That is all well and good. Now, how do we destroy them?" Hermione said, once again the voice of reason.

"The most difficult question is how are we going to get you and Malfoy to meet so that he can give us details about which ones he found. It would suck to think we were done only to find out we went after the same ones," Ron said. Harry shifted uncomfortably and Hermione suspected it was because he knew of a way she could talk to Draco, safely, without compromising anyone. She would just have to marry Draco to do it.

Hermione couldn't help her smile. "But first let's find the locket,"

Ron agreed before stepping out with the need to use the loo.

"Is that something you want?" Harry asked her quietly.

"What?"

"To marry him and have his babies?"

"I think I do,"

"Why haven't you finished the marriage or put on the ring?" He looked away, distinctly uncomfortable.

"I just… Is now really a good time to do this?"

"If you love him and you believe he loves you, what is stopping you?"

"Either one of us could die at any time. That wouldn't be fair to either of us,"

"Wasn't Dumbledore the one who said we need these kinds of happiness's in the darkness of war,  _especially_  in the darkness of war?"

"Are you encouraging me to make an honest man out of Draco Malfoy?" she smirked.

"If you ever tell him this, I will deny it to my dying breath. A bloke doesn't prepare for his death in this manner without knowing exactly what he wants. Even I would believe he loves you. But like I said, I'll never admit to saying it,"

"You, Harry Potter, are a good man,"

"You are just noticing this now?" Harry joked patting himself on the shoulder. Once their laughter died away, he looked at her seriously. "So, are you going to do it?"

"I need time to think," Hermione whispered.

"It would be a huge asset to us if we knew what Horcruxes he had and if he is able to destroy them." Harry nodded to himself having said his piece and moved to walk out of the room. "I don't think I can sleep now. Best get on with the hunt,"

Hermione stared after him in shock. Was Harry really encouraging her to marry Draco?

**HGHG**

What did it mean when a leader of a movement  _was_  the movement? Like a precarious domino maze, all it would take was one careless brush against a single tile before every single piece fell, imploding. And the only thing that would be left was a deeply etched impression of what could have been. The old world, the one that existed before the second rise, would erode away leaving behind an embittered, battle-hardened mess of society. Eventually, there would be healing but not forgiveness, not that. Never that. Not for the defeated. The victors would write history, creating heroes and libertarians. Iconic speeches would be made to the masses, inspiring patriotism. The people would rage for it, crave the secondhand high of honor and glory.

Draco Malfoy was in the unique position where he knew that his choice would topple the domino field. What would he choose? His familial stance of pureblooded society or a world where he could be with  _her_? He was the wild card. The Joker. Draco wasn't the type of man to look power in the eye and turn it down. It was heady, for sure, and he had a hard time keeping his own sense of self-importance in check. Causing him to stand taller with his broadening shoulders thrown back, his chin up and parallel with the floor.

Intrinsically, he knew that if the Dark Lord fell, the rest of his followers would come tumbling down. Not one of the men who graced his father's circles actually wanted this anymore. They had already been beholden, twisted, mentally hogtied by their own fathers. Much like he had been. Draco saw it in the mutters, the cringing fear that they would suffer the Dark Lord's wrath next. They would be justified, too. Their master was more unstable than ever. Lucius's peers whispered that trying to kill Potter had shaken something loose. Others claimed that going so many years without a body was the major factor. Draco, on the other hand, knew the truth.

The 'truth' sat nestled in his moleskin pouch strapped tightly against his skin, hidden by bulky robes. Foolishly, he had taken it out once and studied it, wondering why someone would take a magical artifact and defile it in such a way. Little did he realize exactly how much the pouch protected him from the dark evil housed within until that moment. With unforgiving brutality, the cup spoke to him, preyed on his worst fears.

As quick as lightning, Draco shoved the powerful artifact back in its protective encasement. For several minutes after, he tried to quiet his rapid breaths. Tried to temper his face, push all emotion away to let his emotionless mask slide into place. That was the one and only time the soul shard saw the light of day. As each day passed where he wasn't discovered, Draco breathed another sigh of relief. It was a dangerous game he was playing; one he wasn't sure he could win.

Ever since the day he took Hermione in his arms and knew that he wanted to find out if they could have a future, he wanted to shed the heavy responsibility of what was expected of him in the society he was born. Of what was demanded of him. For those several minutes when she was in his arms or he was in her personal space, he felt lighter, honorable. A man capable of change and may be worthy of a woman like Hermione Granger. Oh, how she made him burn! Ironic was the only word that he could use that would explain why he felt he needed to be cleansed to be with her and not the reverse as he was always told. His instincts hardly ever steered him wrong. He should listen to them more often.

They told him to run when the Dark Lord branded his arm. They told him to confide in Dumbledore before the fall. But if he had, would he be uniquely positioned to be the savior of the wizarding world? Would the world chant his name along with Potter's when this was all over? Along with Hermione's? He smirked to himself. Damn straight, they would. He made his choice. Endorsed by his mother and even more unlikely, his father. One explicitly came out and said it, the other passed critical, need to know, information without batting a single lash in remorse.

And if he thought of the way Hermione would look at him when she realized what a hero he was for taking care of business… well, he would be lying if he didn't admit to wanting to see that very much.

Draco rocked, gently immersed in his thoughts as the Hogwarts Express made the trip from London to Hogsmeade. The usually boisterous cars were silent, more than half-sitting empty, despite the new law that mandated attendance. However, Muggleborn students would have been completely mad to walk into Hogwarts this year. In fact, Draco rather suspected they would make it to the castle only to disappear, never to be seen again. And Blood traitors and half-bloods would become the bottom rung, those that would inherit the abuse heaped on them by the new regime leaders. Draco shuddered as he remembered being in the room when the Carrows had been given the appointments as professors.

After that meeting had ended, they had flanked him and whispered their filthy plans in his ear, salivating at the thought that he would be under their thumb. To them, it wouldn't matter that he was a Death Eater. They would justify everything under the umbrella as training. As if anything they planned would give anyone the skills needed to survive the war, except maybe the firsthand knowledge of how the Cruciatus felt. That, however, was before he volunteered for his first mission, earning himself approval from their master. And by extension, safety from the Carrows depraved plans.

Theo stared out of the window opposite him, arm wrapped around Pansy who was cowering into his side. It was a new development and he wasn't sure what to make of it. Not that it surprised him, the two of his friends have been dancing around each other for years.

"Where is Blaise?" Draco asked, feeling as if he disturbed the sanctity of a holy place by speaking. He looked down at the hands in his lap and traced the line of the gold ring on his left ring finger. For the time being, it was only that. A ring. But if Hermione said yes to him, to be his wife… all she would need was to complete the marriage certificate and put on the ring he sent to her. He would feel it. The magic would flow through his ring, binding them forever after as man and wife. It was foolish to wear it and not to disillusion it, but he couldn't help himself. He wanted to know the moment she said yes to him.  _If_  she said yes.

"Italy," Pansy said quietly, knuckles gone white clasped with Theo's.

"What was up last year with you two?"

"He asked my parents for permission to marry me," she sounded uncaring as if it had been an offer for someone else. He furrowed his brow and studied her. She was even more pale than usual. Scared. Uncharacteristically subdued. "They said yes. I said no. When he left the country, he didn't even ask me to go too. Not that I would have."

"What happened to make you like this?"

Both Theo and Pansy looked up in surprise, uncertain if he was joking. "My brother was killed last week when the Ministry fell,"

"I heard the Aurors put up one hell of a fight,"

"My brother didn't die until after,"

"What did he get hit with," Draco raked his hand through his hair and ran through a list of fatal time-release spells.

"The Avada from the Dark Lord,"

Draco's head snapped back up. He had an instinctive feeling that if he told Pansy and Theo everything he knew; they would form their own golden trio and fight to take down the brutal regime that currently reigned. Only they would do it on the down-low, knowing that recognition would be a death sentence. Draco sighed and looked out the window. Maybe he would fill them in. He had a feeling that he was going to need allies, powerful ones, before the end. The Hogwarts Express was not a good place to share such damning information. The walls had ears. He was sure of it.

The silence remained through the rest of the trip and beyond. Hagrid was no longer at the boats calling for the first years. It was McGonagall with her disapproving scowl. From the moment he stepped off the train, that glare was focused on him. He looked away quickly. By now it was likely that she knew his wrongs from the previous year.

Someday, she would know what he was doing and hopefully, he would earn forgiveness. Until then, he would take whatever punishment she threw his way. Atonement was not something he thought he would ever seek, and yet, here he was.

Silence continued to rule over the student body, even as the sorting commenced. The hat didn't sing its yearly song. Snape rose, sneering at the students like usual, but there was something less biting, something different about the man. It was as if he faced his worst fears and decided to give up but wasn't allowed to yet lay down his wand.

All of a sudden, warmth enveloped him, and his ring began to glow and spark before fading to a comfortable magical hum. Luckily his hands had been on his lap and the only ones to notice were Theo and Pansy. Exhilaration flooded his body with the realization that she put on his ring, signed her name, and gave her blood willingly.

Hermione Granger was a Granger no more.


	16. Ministry Mayhem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to CJRed who alpha read this story.
> 
> Updates every Thursday!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr as JessiyL for chapter by chapter updates. Although last week was a total bust. Sorry guys. There has been a death in the family and I have been struggling a bit.

**Chapter Sixteen- Ministry Mayhem**

Harry, in a complete turnaround, had spent a solid hour, convincing Hermione that she should complete her marriage to Draco before they entered the Ministry. He felt it would be safer for all of them, especially her. But only if she wanted to marry Draco. Actually, his exact words were, 'if you must marry that git, might as well do it before we go to the Ministry. Who knows? That Ferrety bastard might be able to help us if one of us gets caught'. But Hermione knew what he was really saying. Hermione had been determined to wait, try and meet with him in another way and build up to marriage over time. That too was kiboshed. What if something happened and they needed to be able to contact Draco? The Horcruxes were too big of a part in the destruction of Voldemort that they needed to take advantage of any leg ups they had. Effectively, Harry wanted to create an alliance with a neighboring kingdom through marriage.

With a nervous fluttering in her stomach, Hermione waited until she thought that everyone was asleep before settling on Regulus's old bed, Draco's box on her lap. First, she emptied the contents, laying them neatly on the bed in a row. Then she pulled his letter to her and reread the whole. Trust. Love. Devotion. He was offering everything she ever wanted in a husband.

Signing the certificate while her heart was beating erratically was a rush. She had felt lightheaded. Was this really happening? Was she really, truly marrying Draco Malfoy?

Sliding the immense diamond on her finger, she lifted the marriage contract that needed only a signature and a drop of blood to seal the deal. After taking a deep breath, Hermione signed her name then stabbed her finger with a sterilized hatpin that she had found in one of the rooms and watched as her blood welled on her finger. Funny how blood stood at the epicenter of everything. From the war to her secret marriage. Once the droplet was large enough, she flipped her finger over the certificate, pressing her bloody fingerprint over her signature.

A warm light wrapped her in its comforting clutches and her ring began to tingle and glow. Suddenly she was awash in horror. Weren't all pureblooded marriages magically recorded at the ministry and on family tapestries?

Oh God! What had she been thinking? What had  _he_  been thinking? She sat like that for a half-hour, going out of her mind with worry. Would the ministry know where she was? No, they would have swarmed the place by now, she tried to convince herself.

After another half hour had gone by and Hermione was nearly insensate with fear, the box glowed on her lap. Opening the lid, she drew out a small note.

_Hello Wife,_

_Miss me?_

Hermione snorted and smiled, the fears no longer taking over her entire brain.

_Draco,_

_Did you forget that all pureblooded marriages were recorded magically in the Ministry and on the family tapestry?_

Maybe sharing her fears would make him realize that he could fix things on his end.

_Obviously not. The Malfoy family tapestry suddenly needed to be cleaned and it has been misplaced ever since. I wonder what happened to it… As for the Ministry, all that their records will say is that there is now a Mr. and Mrs. Draco Malfoy. Although I do anticipate being drilled eventually, it will take them a while to slog through the mire. My mother has been revisioning our family tree. Adding details and whatnot. It might take them years to find the small bit of paper that listed our marriage._

_You never answered me. Did you miss me?_

Hermione laughed, relief making her feelings soar. He had protected them before she even had the thought in her head. Damn, she loved this man!

_I miss you more than you can imagine. But you are still in trouble! Repressing my memories of the vanishing cabinet! Unbelievable!_

Hermione crossed her arms as she waited.

_I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I promise._

_What did you think of my letter?_

She bit her lip. He was talking about Horcruxes. Obviously, he knew how she took the rest.

_You brilliant, amazing man! We already know about them and we will have one soon. What ones do you know about? This way we aren't risking our lives to go after the things we already have._

Hermione jumped as a knock sounded on the closed door.

"Everything alright, Hermione?" Harry mumbled.

"Yeah. Come in. I'm talking to Draco,"

"Wicked," Harry said, sitting on the bed next to her.

The box glowed blue and Hermione immediately reached out and opened the lid, drawing out the new paper within.

_I have Hufflepuff's cup, Ravenclaw's Diadem, and Tom Riddle's diary. One dead. One in my hands. One in the Room of Requirement._

_You?_

Harry was scribbling on parchment as fast as possible before handing it over. Hermione rolled her eyes and read it before setting it in the box and closing the lid.

_Slytherin's Locket. Gaunt family ring. Nagini. One dead. One will be in our hands soon. Fucking snake._

Hermione tapped the box with a finger, impatiently waiting for his response. The moment the box began to glow, her hand was inside.

_Is that fucking Potter with you? Bloody wanker. His handwriting is terrible._

_Anyway, that makes all six. Really not surprised that his fucking pet snake is a Horcrux though. Creepy as fuck._

_Also, stay away from my wife, Potter!_

Hermione rolled her eyes and smirked. Even after getting married, he was still jealous of Harry. Harry was pacing the room, muttering about the Horcruxes and how close they were to have them all. Every once in awhile, he would say Draco's name with disgust, but other than that, his focus was on their mission.

_Still jealous, are we?_ Hermione snickered as she sent it through.

The box glowed blue and Hermione quickly reached in to retrieve the message.

_I thought we already discussed this._

She arched her brow and sent back her response.

You _discussed this and had a temper tantrum._

The moment the box glowed; her hand was inside.

_One of my favorite memories._

Hermione snorted and wrote out her response while smiling.

_Mine too. Leaving you frozen for Theo to find…_

Hermione chuckled wickedly at her revenge then began thinking fondly of when he pulled her over his knees. Absently she wondered if he would do that to her again.

_That isn't what I meant…_

_Damn, I wish I could see you. Wish we could have a real wedding night. Candles. Roses. Champagne. I wish I could have made our first night special._

Hermione sighed and wished that things weren't so complicated. It was true she loved him, it was also true that he had exceeded her expectations with the war, but she would have liked to work out their personal issues face to face over time. The war made that impossible and she was the rational, reasonable sort. Their marriage may have come first but like hell would she allow their marriage to fail in the future because of all the things that should pull them apart. If they both survived the war, that is.

"We have to get that locket tomorrow, Hermione. Even Dumbledore didn't imagine we would find them all so quick," Harry said, still pacing the room.

Hermione mumbled assent and crumpled the note still in her hand, drawing the quill and ink closer, and dipping the tip before beginning to write.

_Think of this as the beginning by necessity. Plan our first night to be after the war is won. Convince me over the next few years that I didn't make a mistake and I will do the same for you. Marriage only works when both participants focus on making their partner happy. Right?_

Quickly, she put the note in the box and took a deep breath as she shut the lid.

"We didn't find them," Hermione answered Harry as she drew the next note out of the box the moment it glowed blue. "Draco Malfoy did."

"That is one hell of a plot twist," Harry muttered mutinously.

"Can you imagine how long it would have taken us without him? If I didn't love that man before…" Hermione bit her bottom lip, moved nearly to tears. "Without any outside influence, he found the means with which to destroy our enemy. Can you imagine? You-Know-Who is an accomplished Legilimens. Do you have any idea how proficient Draco has to be to keep this to himself? He didn't search for them because I asked him. He did this on his own! He wants us to win!"

Harry grunted and nodded. Hermione guessed that Harry and Draco would never stop with the digs but for her, perhaps they would become friends of sorts.

"Why don't you go down and look over tomorrow's plans," she murmured to Harry as she wrote another note for Draco. Harry, in his own world of planning, left without much ado.

_How is Hogwarts?_

She asked, hoping that all of her friends were safe. It was nice being able to ask, to know. Harry and Ron would appreciate the update on Ginny, she knew.

_It's… It's not Hogwarts. This is not the way things should be. The Carrows are a nightmare but at least they haven't harmed anyone yet._

Her throat constricted and helpless fears swirled in her brain. But she couldn't think of that or deal with that right now. Not when her mission was so much bigger.

_Is Ginny okay? And the rest? Neville? Luna?_

She waited with bated breath.

_All of your friends were fine at the Welcoming Feast. They didn't look happy and Longbottom looked ready to do his own bit of murder. Have to say, Longbottom has certainly changed since we were all firsties._

Hermione snorted and began writing her response.

_Neville has always done for people that he cares about. You might not have noticed, but he is a standup guy._

She dropped the letter in the box and closed the lid, opening it moments later when the blue glow returned.

_I will have to take your word for it._

Hermione snorted. She had to admit it was hard for her to envision Draco and Neville getting along. She wrote back, a taunting smirk on her lips.

_He could be a good ally for you on the Gryffindor side of things if you let him._

Again, the glow was back only seconds after she sent her reply.

_I don't think he would give me the time of day if I approached him._

Fair enough, Hermione thought, it wasn't like Draco had been nice to him once in all the years they were at Hogwarts together.

_Can you really blame him?_

Smiling, she reached in the box and pulled out the letter.

_Guess not. I keep forgetting that not everyone knows how much I have changed._

She rolled her eyes. She was willing to bet her wand hand that he still acted like a prat around Harry and Ron, no matter how much he had truly changed. With that thought, she snickered and penned her response.

_Harry knows. You can be friends with him._

After that note, he sent his reply back faster than ever.

_Hermione, Love, I think it would be simpler if you asked me to build you a tower to the moon without any magic._

It was difficult, holding back the laughter that tried to bubble up inside of her.

_Whatever._

From down below she heard the sounds of the boys talking and knew that she should join them. But forgot about their impromptu nighttime meeting when the box glowed.

_You have to know that Potter and I are unlikely to be friends, right?_

Boy, did she know it. But still, she felt as if they would just grow up, maybe they might actually like each other.

_I think you two would really get along if you only showed him the same side of you that you showed me in the beginning._

His note came back, lightning-fast.

_I would rather kiss Longbottom._

It wasn't like she was expecting him to burst out in song and become bosom buddies, she rolled her eyes.

_Fine. I will be the one with the last laugh when you become friends after this is all over._

She hoped they would, despite what he said.

_Don't hold your breath, Sweetheart. Anyway, as much as I am enjoying talking with you, I need to go. Nott is coming up the stairs and he finds my wards a personal invitation to tear them down. Goodnight, Love._

She would have to work on him some other time.

_What is Nott doing out of the dorm at this time of night?_

She couldn't deny her curiosity. It was already after midnight.

_Probably filching fairy cakes from the kitchen. Should I let him know his mummy disapproves?_

Hermione snorted again. At least for today, the people she loved were okay and Nott was sneaking into the kitchens. If things were really bad, not one student would be found after hours for something so trivial. Then again, Theodore Nott was a Death Eater's son even if he was more on Draco's side of things than his father's.

_Not necessary. Night, Draco._

Hermione leaned back against the headboard and closed her eyes. She would join the boys in just a few minutes.

Next thing she knew, it was morning and the box was glowing. She smiled sleepily and lifted the lid.

_Have a good day, Love, and stay safe. I won't be able to get back to the box until tonight just so you don't worry if you don't hear from me._

He was so adorable, Hermione swooned to herself, that he thought about her feelings. Then she sobered as she remembered that together with Harry and Ron, they would be breaking into the ministry that morning. In last night's correspondence, she nearly sent Draco a note letting him know that today would be dangerous for her. In the end, she decided against it. All it would accomplish was to get him upset. There was nothing he could do for her from Hogwarts anyway, and by the time he got word of it, she would be safely back at Grimmauld Place. Hopefully.

_I love you, Draco. Wish I could have said it in person._

Hermione swallowed hard and blinked away tears as she lowered the lid of the box. In case things didn't work out with her mission, she wanted him to know. Gently, she pushed the box into her beaded bag, and it clunked lightly against Phineas Nigellus Black's portrait frame.

Adrenaline ran high and showering was a speedy affair. Still, both of the boys had beat her to the kitchen.

Kreacher proudly laid the table with one of the best breakfasts he had ever concocted, though none of them appreciated it as much as they should have. Hermione did give him a determined yet grateful smile in gratitude. The elf kept looking at her ring, confused and more deferential than ever before. Mudblood didn't cross his lips once. And he didn't have to be reminded either.

Harry looked out of the front window grimly, holding back the heavy curtains. He watched the odd figures that hung about the square watching Grimmauld Place. "We are going to have to go in pairs,"

"Hermione is the best at apparating," Ron murmured next to him. "She should take us one at a time,"

Harry nodded, let the curtain drop, and looked at Hermione on the other side of Ron. "Up for it?"

She nodded, confident.

"Go with Ron first," Harry said.

Harry draped the invisibility cloak over her and watched as Hermione and Ron stepped onto the stoop, invisible, covered by Harry's cloak.

Hermione was back, quick as a wink, and opened the door. Harry stepped close under the cover of the invisibility cloak and wrapped an arm around her waist. At one time, the three of them could fit easily, barely bumping their shoulders. Now, even just two of them was a tight squeeze. Harry snorted, softly chuckling.

"What?" she whispered as he opened the door.

"I can't wait to tell Malfoy how I held you close enough to kiss. It will drive him absolutely mad,"

"Harry James Potter! Don't you dare!"

Mischief sparkled in his green eyes. "Ready?"

"Harry!" she muttered warningly under her breath.

The door closed behind them swiftly and Hermione twisted on the balls of her feet, forcing both her body and Harry's through the tight tube of apparition.

They materialized in an alleyway near the Ministry employee entrance, the same one they had agreed on ahead of time, knowing that they would be able to get the hair of three employees easier where the employees were focused on getting to work and were less likely to care about being jostled.

"We have about five minutes," Hermione murmured, looking at her watch.

"Um, Hermione," Ron said.

"Yeah?"

"You aren't going to wear that are you?" He asked, gesturing to Hermione's ring.

Hermione looked down at her wedding ring with surprise. It hadn't occurred to her, which was surprising, because she was always thinking of the details. She shook her head and tried to pull the ring off, but it wouldn't budge.

"I can't get it off," Hermione said, losing her head completely as panic began to take over.

"Then disillusion it," Harry said over his shoulder while peeking around the corner.

Hermione shook her head and glamoured the ring away. The magic coming from it hummed reassuringly even if it was no longer visible. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out the robes they would need once they were polyjuiced as other people.

Ron pointed his wand at the door behind them. " _Alohomora_ ," and watched with amusement as the door crashed open, hitting the wall behind it. Harry and Hermione looked at him with raised brows, but he shrugged and lifted one side of his lips in a lazy smirk.

"Under the cloak," Harry said, gesturing for Ron and Hermione to join him crouching against the brick wall. Hermione had only to step closer, but Ron had to run to them. Less than a minute after the cloak covered him, their first victim appeared.

With a nonverbal stunning spell, Hermione hit the petite, grey-haired witch in the chest. Together, the trio jumped out of hiding, each of them had a job to do. Ron and Harry carried the witch out of the alley and into the abandoned building that Ron had opened prior. Hermione, who had taken a few hairs off the woman, added the final ingredient to the polyjuice potion. The potion bubbled unappealingly in the flask she had prepared for her own transformation. It was a pale beige and Hermione hoped that the polyjuice didn't taste as bad as she feared. She threw the contents of the flask to the back of her throat and swallowed, waiting while the boys came back out of the building from hiding the woman whom Hermione would be impersonating. It tasted exactly as she remembered.

"Mafalda Hopkirk," Ron muttered as he handed Hermione the woman's Ministry tokens.

Hermione pocketed them and grimaced as her face bubbled and changed. Soon enough, she was short and slim, and grey wisps of hair fluttered in the breeze. Quickly, she shucked the heavier, yet concealing robes, tossed them in her tiny bag, and ripped out the smaller, shapeless robes that she had seen the woman wear on their last foray. It hadn't been difficult to procure them either, Hermione thought with a wry twist of lips.

Harry closed the door to the building and joined Ron under the invisibility cloak, this time without Hermione. She stood alone in the center of the alley, looking bored, even if she was wringing her hands.

"Morning, Mafalda," Cattermole said in a wavering voice.

Hermione turned to look at the man that met Mafalda every single day at the ally but was taken aback by his purple bags and red-rimmed eyes. "Morning. How are you?"

"Not so good," he murmured, and they began walking toward the main drag, Harry and Ron creeping silently behind them.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Have a sweet," she said, though she felt something was seriously off with the fellow, she didn't have time for niceties. The success of the mission depended on having him out of the way and his body in use. She was running out of time to take him out of commission and it made her nervous because she didn't like when things went unexpectedly, although that is usually what happened.

"No thanks," he murmured. He turned to her as if he was about to emotionally unload but Hermione had moments left to make a move.

"Are you sure? They are amazing," She insisted, shaking the small bag in his face. He looked mildly alarmed, but took one anyway, popping the treat in his mouth. Again, he looked as if he was going to talk to her about his troubles but all of a sudden, he turned green and shut his mouth.

Immediately, he turned and emptied his stomach on the brick wall next to him. Hermione plucked several of his hairs and pocketed them, seriously trying not to puke as well. The boys must have iron stomachs because she didn't hear one sound from either one of them.

"You should probably go home!" she said frantically. Using her left hand to pinch her nose, she awkwardly patted him on the back. Wouldn't he expect at least that from Mafalda, a friend that walked with him into work each day? She sure hoped that was enough because she wasn't sure that she would be able to hold in her own heaving if she had to get much closer.

"No!" he tried to say but turned away to yet again puke. After several minutes, she finally convinced the wizard to go home. He apparated away with a loud crack and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, dropping his hair into another dose of the potion. Ron stepped forward, avoiding the puddles of vomit, and downed the contents in one go, much like Hermione had. She looked on with horrified disgust, despite the necessity of their plan, and tried to ignore the puke at her feet.

With a nod from Harry, Hermione and Ron walked out onto the main thoroughfare, searching for another hapless victim. She looked back for a moment, only to catch the last bit of his feet disappear under the cloak.

More and more people converged on the space and after only a few minutes, slogging through the crush became nearly impossible. Hermione was throwing elbows left and right, but still, the stream of people carried them up the street. Finally, Ron had gotten to the other side and put his back to a doorway, reaching out to pluck Hermione from the tide of witches and wizards headed to their jobs.

A man with curly hair deftly cut through the crowd but stopped as he approached Ron and Hermione. And it was unusual that no matter the crush of people, everyone was giving the curly-haired man plenty of space. Not one person bumped into him, though they did give him scared looks. Then the oddest thing happened. He smiled at Mafalda-Hermione. Not in a 'how are you doing, way' but in a 'hey, will you finally say yes to dinner tonight', way. She smiled at him nervously and held up a small pouch of sweets.

"A treat?"

"I shouldn't," Runcorn said with a smirk.

"They are to die for," Hermione gushed, and he took one with a smile and a raised brow as if he were flirting. It took every ounce of control not to lose her stomach on his shoes. Mafalda was at least twice his age and Runcorn was so…no.

Moments after the offered treat was in his mouth, Runcorn started bleeding from his nose. Hermione dug into her pocket and pulled out a small handkerchief - one that she had found in Walburga's room wedged between the bureau and the wall - and held it out, affecting a look of concern. Once he realized he wouldn't easily staunch the bleeding, he turned to Hermione, muttering excuses. Right before he went to leave, Ron, who had left Hermione in the doorway moments earlier, circled around Runcorn and yanked out several hairs.

With a pop, Runcorn was gone. The two of them walked back to the alley and dropped the hair into another dose of polyjuice. Harry looked at it with disgust but drank the potion anyway, grimacing in that all too familiar way.

Together, the three of them walked to the Ministry entrance, splitting up only because the entrance seemed to be public bathrooms separated by gender.

Hermione joined the queue full of women and smiled at the other ladies as they waited for their turn.

"I hate having to use this entrance. What if some muggle came in to actually use the loo? I spend the first hour at work  _scourgifying_  my shoes. I swear. I just imagine sewage coating my feet. Gross." The woman behind Hermione murmured. "Why can't we just floo in like we used to?"

"You know why," the woman behind her said darkly. "only the higher-ups can use those entrances now,"

"Just the thought of stepping into the toilet gives me the heebie-jeebies,"

"I know what you mean,"

Hermione held back a smirk and silently thanked the women behind her as she took the next available stall. Without their complaining, she would have been at a loss at what to do. Gingerly, she stepped into the toilet, pulled the chain, and a chute opened up beneath her feet. Next thing she knew, she was standing in a fireplace in the Ministry atrium.

The statue that took up the center of the massive room was grotesque, and Hermione looked up at it, struggling to maintain a look of bored indifference. Eventually, she pulled her gaze from it and saw Ron land and beckoned to him. He hurried over. Harry was standing in the fireplace he had appeared in, looking around as if he hadn't ever seen the place before. Hermione bit her lip as another wizard appeared right behind him.

Harry turned their way, finally, and Hermione and Ron waved him over.

"Ready?" Ron said grimly. Hermione and Harry nodded and made their way to the lifts.

"Cattermole! You would think with your wife being interrogated today, that you would be willing to bend over backward to do your part. I have asked, and asked, and requested all without avail. It has been raining in my office for three days now. One would think that those facing inquisition would be more than willing to go above and beyond what is required and yet, it continues to rain. I am starting to wonder at your dedication. Perhaps it is the influence of the abomination you call your wife," Yaxley shouted at Ron in front of the entire queue of workers who were now looking anywhere and everywhere but at the angry Yaxley.

Hermione could barely contain her horrified surprise as a squeak escaped her lips. Quickly, she shut them and bit them, struggling to stifle anything that may draw his attention. Ron's eyes went large and round and horrified as the meaning of Yaxley's rebuke sunk in. Not only was he being reprimanded in front of his peers, apparently his wife was Muggleborn and that very morning was coming in to stand with her for her case.

"I will take care of it, Sir," Ron said in a muted voice, head hanging as if defeated.

"You better. I can't say how much worse it will be for your wife if you do not,"

The warning hung thick in the air and when the lifts made their standard ding, the heard of people stampeded in, desperate to get away lest they be targeted next. Ron, Hermione, and Harry squeezed into the mass and waited, level by level, as people filtered out upon reaching their destinations.

The second the lift had initially closed with the three of them inside, Hermione began quietly running down a list of spells that might work. Ron eagerly took notes, a manic gleam in his eyes. Though they were loath to separate, they could not all tromp to Yaxley's office. They would lose valuable time. Harry and Hermione needed to go up to Umbridge's office and the longer they spent inside, the more likely they would be caught. Surely, they reasoned, the locket would be with her.

Once Ron was headed towards Yaxley's office, the lift closed and once again rose. Hermione and Harry rode in silence to level one. As the golden grills parted, Umbridge stood front and center, a smug little smirk on her thin lips.

"Mafalda, Travers sent you?" Umbridge said in her high pitched little girl voice.

Hermione nodded as Umbridge stepped in leaving the Minister of Magic to his own devices on the landing.

"Aren't you getting off, Runcorn?" Umbridge asked sweetly. Her obnoxious pink bow poked Hermione in the chin. She ached to rip the satin off the grown woman's head and tear it to shreds. Instead, she stood still, listening to Umbridge talk to another wizard who entered with her about Mrs. Cattermole's hearing. Hermione had a feeling she was going to need to know what the heck was going on.

"Yes," Harry drawled, reluctantly leaving. Hermione watched him until he was out of view. Hermione's heart was pounding fiercely. Things just kept getting more and more complicated. But that was how things were, and they couldn't have accounted for every possibility.

Once the lift doors opened, Umbridge cast her Patronus, a long-haired cat. The familiar chill of Dementors was held back by the small ghostly feline and Hermione stared at the floor as their group moved into the Wizengamot chambers. They each took their places, Hermione to transcribe from the seat next to Umbridge.

"Bring in the first thief," the squat witch said, smiling, watching her Patronus stalk back and forth with a ghostly flicking tail.

A wizard walked in with his head held high, a man that Hermione had never seen before. He began talking fast, insisting that he was a half-blood but Umbridge cut him off and read from a paper in front of her that listed bogus charges before finally accusing the man of having his family tree altered. Hermione soon realized these court cases were nothing more than sentencings, and the wizard was dragged out of the chamber, his wand snapped in front of his eyes, still yelling as if anything he said would make a difference.

Hermione held her breath as the next person was introduced as Mary Cattermole. A terrible gnawing filled her stomach and guilt settled painfully in her chest. This woman would have the support of her husband there if not for Harry, Ron, and Hermione. She took a slow breath, trying to fight off the rising panic.

This wasn't even the worst of what would happen if Voldemort wasn't stopped, she thought much as she pitied these people, she knew her efforts needed to stay focused on the Horcruxes. The only way to truly win the war.

Her quill began flying across the parchment as the inquisition began. After several minutes, she had gotten into a mindless groove, words flying off the tip of her quill.

"I'm behind you," Harry breathed in her ear and she jumped at the unexpected voice. Neither Yaxley nor Umbridge seemed to notice her violent startle as their focus was solely on the terrified woman in the chair below. Hermione was overwhelmingly thankful that she wasn't alone with these horrible people while also surrounded by Dementors. And she could only imagine how much worse the defendants felt in the hot seat.

Harry and Hermione saw it at the same time. When Umbridge leaned closer, a solid gold necklace swung forward, hanging there for all to see. Hermione couldn't help the tiny squeak that escaped her lips. It was so bloody close. Her fingers itched as she fought the urge to wrap her hands around the gleaming metal and pull, snapping the chain.

"…Mafalda pass them to me," Umbridge said and Hermione blinked several times to bring herself back to the moment then shuffled the papers in front of her to find the documents that were just requested. As she handed them over, she smiled at Umbridge.

"That is a pretty necklace," Hermione said, pointing to the locket of Slytherin.

"An old family heirloom," she said flippantly, focused on the papers that Hermione just handed her. "The 'S' stands for Selwyn,"

Hermione could feel Harry's invisible rage radiate from just behind her shoulder. Seconds passed before she felt the tell-tale movement of his arm lifting under the cloak.

" _Stupify_ ," Harry said, furiously.

Hermione was on the move the second she heard his voice. Umbridge was slumped over and all the papers scattered around them on the bench and floor. Hermione reached for the locket, ignoring Harry as he stunned Yaxley. She glanced up and her eyes went comically wide.

"Harry!"

"If you think I'm going to sit here and let her pretend…" He began but Hermione cut him off, pointing at Mary Cattermole and the fact that she was now surrounded by uncontrolled Dementors. He quickly cast a Patronus and Hermione went back to work, spells rapid fire from her mouth. She needed the bitch to think that her necklace was safe and not in other hands. Hermione needed Umbridge to believe that no one had even touched it. If the crazy bint spent her time moaning about how someone stunned her and stole her locket, the news would eventually get back to Voldemort. And that was all they needed, Voldemort's awareness of the fact that someone was hunting his soul pieces. Because he would recognize the description immediately, without a doubt.

" _Geminio_ ," Hermione muttered at last and laid the fake against the unconscious woman's breast and stuffed the real locket in her pocket. She flew down the steps and pointed her wand at Mary's wrists which Harry was struggling to release. " _Ralashio_!"

Harry was talking to the witch and Hermione stared at the door in horror. There were so many Dementors out in that hall. She could feel them converging on the door and the other people waiting to be brought before the court.

"How are we going to get out of here?" Hermione mumbled, starting to slightly shake. They didn't have much time left.

"Patronus," he said, gesturing to his stag.

Trembling, Hermione raised her wand. " _Expecto Patronum_!" she said, but nothing happened. Visibly steeling herself, Hermione brought up every cherished memory of Draco and what he was doing for her, for them. Every change he made to himself. Every smile. Every kiss. Every time he called her 'Love'. The realization that he was the reason that they were so much closer to finishing the war than they ever believed.

" _Expecto Patronum_ ," she repeated and this time, her otter joined Harry's stag. Together the silvery figures burst through the doors.

Harry immediately turned to the witches and wizards waiting. "Go home. You have all been released. Get your family together and leave as soon as possible,"

Several shocked seconds ticked by before the group stampeded to the lifts. Harry and Hermione following them. The moment the grills parted, Harry assumed an authoritative role, booming loudly for the group to follow him to the exits. Hermione strode silently beside him, chin in the air. Harry had walked half the length of the ministry when another wizard stepped into his path. Without hesitation, Harry went toe to toe with the wizard who had been sealing off the fireplaces, buying the fleeing Muggleborns just enough time to escape.

Luckily, Ron stepped out of the lifts behind them moments later. Mary Cattermole who had been walking next to Harry and Hermione caught sight of her husband and threw herself in his arms, sobbing with built-up tension and relief that he was with her. Awkwardly, Ron tried to comfort the woman, telling her that she needed to get the kids and run.

Hermione saw their window for escape closing the longer they stood there, especially when the real Reginald Cattermole stepped out of one of the last unblocked fireplaces.

The skin on Hermione's arm started to bubble before her very eyes and knew that they would be exposed soon. They had to get out of there and fast. Ron seemed to understand the growing panic in her eyes and pulled the distraught woman into a fireplace and disappeared. Harry grasped Hermione by the hand and pulled her into a fireplace too, stepping through and into what Hermione assumed was the male bathroom that they flushed into the Ministry from. Ron was wrestling with Mrs. Cattermole just outside of one of the loo stalls.

"We can't wait any longer. Let her go. We have to go. NOW!" Harry yelled at him.

Hermione grabbed onto Harry as he grabbed onto Ron who pushed Mary Cattermole away. Hermione felt one glorious moment of success and relief when bruising hands clamped on to her leg. She knew that Yaxley must have latched on and was now inside the Fidelius of Grimmauld Place. Thinking quickly, she hexed him off and redoubled her grip on Harry. With another twist, she pulled the three of them back into the breathless compression of apparition, hoping that Harry was still holding onto Ron.

They landed in the center of a forest - one that Hermione knew well when she was a little girl - and looked around marveling at its sameness. She noticed with relief that though Harry seemed to be out of it, he was okay but the second she looked at Ron, Hermione knew that something was horribly wrong.

The robes covering Ron's arm were shiny and dark as blood poured from his wound, pumping frenetically from the gouge in his arm. It could have been scooped out with a spoon, the wound was so perfect in its symmetry, like ice cream from its tub.

Her hands shook as she pulled the dittany from her beaded bag and rushed to his side. He was so pale and lifeless, that she thought he might be dead. The dittany did its job wonderfully, smoking as it regrew muscle and flesh rapidly. Before her very eyes, his wound began to close. Once he was mostly put to rights, Hermione stood and waved her wand in complex movements in a circle around them. They shouldn't move Ron, not yet, and that meant that they would have to camp right there in the forest for the night. She had never been so glad to have conceived of the beaded bag and its untold depths, packing everything within that they might need. Except, she thought grimly, food.

Looking on the brighter side of things, Hermione dug the locket out of her pocket and handed it to Harry. They had done it! Together, they shared a small smile, hanging the locket around his own neck. It was how they would keep it safe. Keeping it close. Probably too close, Hermione thought.

**HGHG**

Draco leaned outside the Headmaster's office with his hands in his pockets. Earlier, Snape had called Draco to come and he had. The first time he answered Snape's summons in over a year and Draco had barely settled into his chair when Yaxley crashed in, heedless of the consequences. McGonagall followed him, red-faced and furious.

"Minerva, you may be excused," Snape said immediately in a slow drawl that made the boys from southern United States sound fast. "Draco, please wait for me outside. Don't leave,"

Draco nodded and eyed Yaxley with loathing, but it was a mutual loathing. Yaxley hated him just because he was Lucius' son. The two, though peers, always competed against each other. Draco couldn't imagine why they would ever do business together if they had such negative feelings. But they did, and often. Yaxley and his family were no strangers to the Malfoys. Draco, on the other hand, hated him for many reasons, mostly for his cruelty but also because Yaxley had been the bastard that held him down the day he was branded, a perverse and genuine smile every time Draco flinched with pain.

Draco rounded the doorway and leaned against the stone wall. For some reason that had nothing to do with Draco's outstretched foot, he was sure, the door he had just graced didn't seem to want to close all the way. Draco took advantage of the overlooked security breach and cocked his head, listening to the panicked pleading of Yaxley inside.

"…Right in the Ministry." The Death Eater said in a rush. Draco exhaled, annoyed that he seemed to be missing bits of the conversation despite the door having not fully closed.

"Potter broke into the Ministry? Why?" Snape asked.

"Fuck if I know. Mad-eye's magical eye? It was the only thing missing. That and Potter and his Mudblood released all of the Mudbloods that were supposed to sit trial." Yaxley said. Draco inhaled swiftly through his nose. Fear sloshed in his stomach and he stood still as a statue, hoping to hear if she was safe.

"Did you capture them?" Snape asked.

"No. Would I be here asking for favors if I had one of them? All of them escaped," Yaxley choked out, furious. "They walked out of the bleeding front entrance as if they came to look around for a bit of fun! I caught the girly by the foot at the end which brought me inside the Fidelius on Black House. Then that bloody Mudblood hexed me! Kicked me off them, and apparated the lot away. I can't find them, no matter how long I tried manipulating their trail. She is damn near untraceable!"

"I warned you that she was the best student in this school. I warned you not to underestimate her or Potter. What about Weasley?"

"Splinched. Left a decent chunk of flesh on the doorstep behind them," Yaxley said with vindictive pleasure. "Probably dead. Then again, it could have been from any one of them,"

The angrily pumping heart in Draco's chest stopped. What if it was Hermione who was splinched? What if those buffoons had no way of healing her? What if his wife was laying in Potter's arms bleeding out onto the ground?

Draco would fucking kill him!

Yaxley had moved towards the door and Draco leaned back against the stone around the corner, pulling his foot back and dropped the emotionless mask over his face. "When the Dark Lord gets back in the country tonight, I want him to have some good news. I don't want to die tonight,"

"He won't kill you. You delivered him the safehouse."

"He will not go light on the Cruciatus either," Yaxley muttered and wrenched the door wide open. Dragonhide boots, heavy and echoing, against the flagstone beneath his feet.

"When you displease the Dark Lord, you will be punished," Snape said smoothly as if he, himself, hadn't spent his fair share under his master's punishing wand.

Yaxley waved him away over his shoulder and glared at Draco as he passed by. Minerva stood like a sentinel at the end of the hall, watching the brutish Death Eater walk the hallowed halls of Hogwarts. Disgust was a physical punch that oozed out of her. Her eyes were narrowed, lips were pressed in a thin unforgiving line, and her nostrils flared like a raging beast. First, her dangerous gaze pinned Draco from across the hall, then settled into a deeper loathing as she shifted her focus to Yaxley.

"Minnie," Yaxley smirked at her while passing and Draco swore that he saw a fizzle of blue lightning leave her wand and hit the stone next to her feet.

"Draco, come," Snape murmured from beside him which effectively pulled his gaze away from the furious Scot.

He followed his Godfather into his office and sat once again in the chair he had originally taken. Folding his hands together, he looked around, noting with quite a bit of surprise that Victus Malfoy was watching avidly from his frame on the wall. Dumbledore too was assessing him, but Draco kept his eyes well away from the Headmaster that died because of him.

"Victus tells me you need the sword," Snape drawled, sitting in his seat and steepling his fingers under his chin.

Draco's reaction was as violent as it was swift. His narrowed gaze shouted betrayal to any who looked upon them.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist," Snape said, rolling his eyes. "You don't have any enemies in this room. I can make the sword available to you tonight,"

"I will need a few days," Draco muttered through clenched teeth, feeling as if the whole thing was a terrible setup.

"We were under the impression you had one in your possession," Dumbledore said. Draco's shocked eyes met and held twinkling blue.

"I do. But give me a few days and I will have two,"

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose and excitement took over his face. Every single predecessor was chattering excitedly. Snape was massaging the bridge of his nose.

"I would like to speak with you alone in two days then," Dumbledore said, before cutting his gaze to Snape. "Alone and with the sword,"

Snape nodded stiffly and looked at Draco.

"I will do what I can," Draco murmured respectfully to the portrait.

"I wish we knew how the others were doing. Phineas? Any news?" Dumbledore said brightly.

"No. Still only see the blackness of the inside of her infernal bag. Recently she shoved something, some box in there. It keeps knocking against my frame," Phineas whined.

Draco snorted; he had a damn good idea what box that was.

"Yes?" Phineas sneered. "You seem to have input. Care to share?"

"No."

"Ungrateful wretch,"

"Now, now Phineas. Draco is on our side." Dumbledore said in a placating voice.

Draco's eyes went wide and flew to Snape's.

"I said you didn't have any enemies in here," Snape mumbled grumpily as if he hated that anyone knew of his true allegiance.

"So, all last year…"

Snape rolled his lip. "Yes."

Draco could admit that he felt like a complete arse. Half of his issues from last year could have been avoided if only he had trusted his Godfather a little bit more.

"If things had been any different," Draco began, mind churning. "I wouldn't have the skills I need to keep  _him_  out."

"Well said, my boy!" Dumbledore beamed. "Now that we got that out of the way, I'm dying to know… Have you made up with Hermione Granger? And has she forgiven you for repressing her memories?"

Draco looked at Dumbledore's portrait in horror.

"Come on, man! We need to know who won the bet," Phineas Nigellus Black said.

"Bet?"

"Did she forgive you or not?"

Dazed and not entirely sure he should say it out loud, he murmured, "she married me,"

Snape smacked himself in the forehead. Dumbledore clapped heartily and accepted the congratulations of the other portraits. All, except Phineas who crossed his arms and turned away.


	17. The Slytherin Trinity

**Chapter Seventeen- The Slytherin Trinity**

Sunshine filtered through the changing leaves, rippling against the cooling wind causing unruly curls to softly brush Hermione's cheeks as she stared unseeing in the distance, past the hazy boundary that signified powerful wards. In the tent behind her, Harry and Ron were sleeping, unused to waking as early as she. It was during that cool early morning that she absently twirled the ring on her finger, determined to ignore the dark, heavy weight of the Horcrux around her neck.

On the ground next to her sat the black lacquered box that had become her constant companion ever since she erected the tent that she had stowed in her bag over the summer, filching it from Arthur Weasley well before Bill and Fleur's wedding. Immediately upon landing and making sure Ron was okay, Hermione had written a note and stuck it in the box, detailing what they had done at the Ministry. It wasn't likely that he didn't know by now that something had happened, something that concerned her. However, that was hours ago, and the box had yet to glow blue. She opened the lid once again to see if the box was just not working correctly, only to see her own note still sitting there. Wondering if the box was working, she started filling the box with small, inconsequential things. Small rocks, acorns, tiny myrtle vines- whatever she could reach from her spot on lookout duty.

Hermione couldn't help the worry that plagued her, the fear. Had he been caught? Had he been hurt? What if he needed her and he couldn't get to the box to let her know?

She covered her face with her hands as she tried to repress the stress crying that threatened to break through. What if her glamour charm on her ring failed momentarily in the Ministry? What if they were, even now, hunting for the man who put it there? Her ring was by no means modest and it wouldn't surprise her to know that the diamond was named or serialized or easily recognized among his peers. What if he was now in Azkaban or being tortured by You-Know-Who himself?

Bile rose in her throat. Looking back over the last few days, she regretted telling Draco that she loved him in a note. She should have told him when she had the opportunity. What if she never again had the chance to do so?

Hermione was seconds away from apparating to the gates of Hogwarts to find out his fate when the box finally glowed blue. Relief flooded her body and she hung her head between her knees so that the lightheadedness wouldn't overwhelm her.

After several seconds passed, she reached into the box and pulled out a substantial note.

_Morning Love,_

_I am sorry if my silence has worried you, a lot has happened. But you already knew that, right? You saunter into the Ministry as if nothing can touch you, as if you were invincible. What were you thinking!? And the worst part is that you didn't even warn me, or let me know, or anything. I found out from fucking Yaxley, listening at the crack of a fucking door._

_As your husband, I would have expected you to have left a note. I know you and Potter are up to some dangerous shit, same as me, but I need to know when you are in danger. I need to know when you are safe. I can't find out like that again. Never again. Promise me!_

_I was going out of my mind with worry wondering if it was you who was splinched. All I dreamed about was you bleeding out in Potter's arms, dying._

_I can't live through another night like the last, Hermione. Please, keep me in the loop._

Dried tear spots made the ink from the previous sentence a bit blurry and Hermione was flooded with remorse so heavy it could have taken down the pillars of creation.

_After the third loop of the same fucking nightmare where you died, I gave it up for a bad job and spent the small hours in the Room of Hidden things looking for the Diadem. There is so much shit in there, I am not sure how I will find it._

_I had a very pleasant surprise yesterday. I found out that Snape is on our side. If anything good came out of yesterday, it was knowing that. He has made the Sword of Gryffindor available to me so that I can destroy the Horcruxes I have. Also, you should be aware that Dumbledore and Snape both knew of our love saga last year. Apparently, there was even a bet if you would forgive my use of the memory repression spell. Dumbledore bet that you would forgive me. Phineas bet against. Snape likes to pretend that he hates everything and everyone, but I am sure he is happy for us. He didn't call me an idiot once. You, on the other hand, are apparently a bigger idiot than Potter._

_My mother is especially excited to hear the news of us, not that I put it in so many words. She wanted me to tell you that you are welcome in the family and that she hopes that one day, the two of you can share the duties of Lady Malfoy until they become entirely yours. Also, the Marriage and Death unit of the Magical Records Division in the Ministry has been thoroughly bogged down with nonsensical information and it would, and I quote, 'take years of slogging through the mire to find your Marital Registration'._

_I assume you endangered your life and went to the Ministry for a Horcrux. Did you get it?_

_Love,_

_Me_

_By the way, I have loved you for so long, I can't fathom not. Next time you tell me you love me; you should tell me in person._

Hermione let out a quivering breath and covered her face with the parchment, reveling in Draco's incredible smell that was left on the paper. It was the closest she could get to him and his scent brought everything back, but this time with a powerful longing that Hermione wouldn't even bother to try to put into words.

"That's creepy, you know," Harry said as he sat on the ground next to her. She blushed and set the parchment in her lap.

"Probably," she sighed, and pulled a fresh parchment off the stack next to her and dipped her quill in the dark ink.

"What did he say? Did he find out about the Ministry?"

"Yeah, he wasn't too happy about it,"

"None of us were, we did what we had to. Wonder what he did to get the cup,"

"He wasn't mad I went… well, yes he was I think but he was angrier that I didn't tell him. Yaxley had gone to Hogwarts to talk to Professor Snape and he heard all about it. They didn't know who was splinched though. That, I think, scared him more than anything,"

Harry nodded solemnly. "I don't know what Ron and I would have done if it was you who splinched. Neither of us would have known what to use. I think you probably would have died,"

"Speak for yourself," Ron said sleepily, rubbing his eyes, and sat next to Harry. "Mum always used Dittany on Fred and George. Around those two, you become rather good at healing yourself. Plus, haven't you listened to Hermione over the last week as she catalogued what she had in her bag?"

Both Harry and Hermione looked at him with some surprise.

"I'm not an idiot, you know," Ron mumbled, irritated.

"We know that," Hermione said confidently.

"It's just that you pay attention just as well as I do in classes. I wouldn't have thought you would have known," Harry said embarrassed.

"Shows you," Ron muttered between a big yawn. "My turn, 'Mione,"

Hermione lifted the Horcrux up and over her head, handing the mutilated soul over without protest. Instantly, she was lighter, and the world took on a happier hue. She dipped her quill in the ink that sat waiting next to her and pulled a clean sheet on her lap.

_Morning My Love,_

_I should have told you about going to the Ministry last night. I nearly did but what stayed my hand was the knowledge that there would have been nothing you could have done if something bad happened. Harry agrees with you. Are you just as shocked as I was? He thought it would have been another layer of protection for me. The danger it would have put you in had you made a move… I am not willing to sacrifice you._

_Yes, we went for a Horcrux and we have it in hand. It is thoroughly unpleasant to be around, but we can't let it out of our sight. We have been taking turns wearing it._

_Yaxley must have truly been panicking. Harry stupefied him himself, and I was sitting next to the bastard for the better part of a half-hour and he didn't even notice. Granted, I was polyjuiced at the time, but anyone who knew Mafalda should have immediately known something was wrong. Just goes to show their stupidity and overconfidence. 'Potter would never break into the Ministry'. Ha! We did what we had to._

_Ron was the one splinched, by the way. He is fine. I had Dittany with me and immediately put him to rights. Plus, Ron said he would have been able to heal me had I been the one. So set your mind at ease. Growing up with Fred and George gave him some experience with treating wounds. Harry, on the other hand, admitted to being useless in that regard. I will have to teach him later…  
_

_**Yes, I need a really in-depth lesson! If you know what I mean! -Harry** _

_**Maybe I should have a one on one lesson with Hermione too… you know, to refresh my memory. -Ron** _

_Sorry, Draco. Ron and Harry thought they were being funny. Where was I?  
_

_I am rather shocked that Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Snape knew but didn't say anything to either of us. And we thought we were being sneaky using the Abandoned Classroom! It makes things so much easier though, especially since they have provided you a means to destroy the ones you have. I must say, I often wondered if Headmaster Dumbledore and the staff indulged in some sort of a poll for the student relationships. A bet though… never thought they would stoop that low._

_I can't express how grateful I am to your mother for protecting me - us - this way and I can't wait to meet her. She seems like a formidable witch; I would love to pick her brain someday when this is all over.  
_

_As of right now, you are the only one with a means to destroy them. The Sword. But with our recent acquisition, between you and us, we have all except Nagini. You have found the Diadem, right?_

_Love Always,_

_Hermione_

_**Are the secret passages blocked? How can we get in without being caught? -Harry** _

"We should go to Hogwarts," Harry said, reading over her shoulder and lifted his own quill off the note, much to Hermione's annoyance.

"Write him your own note," Hermione mumbled then paused, reading Harry's postscript, unmindful of the ink dripping on the parchment. "Don't you think that is rather suicidal?"

"We need the Sword. The Sword is at Hogwarts. Therefore, that is where we need to be."

"I agree," Ron said. "This could be over soon. Can you imagine?"

"I don't know…" Hermione said, thinking of all the ways it could go wrong but another part of her leaped for joy, her pulse pounded with the suggestion of being with Draco. "We can't just walk in the front gates."

"What about the secret passageways," Harry argued, pointing to his last addition.

"If we do this, we need to do all of our homework first, same as we did prior to going to the Ministry," Hermione said reluctantly. "And we don't make a single move until Draco gives us the all-clear,"

"Alright," Harry said compromising even though Hermione could tell he was itching to go right at that moment. Ron grimaced but said nothing.

Hermione rolled the letter and placed it in the box and closed the lid.

**HGHG**

Draco laid back on his bed, arm casually tossed over his eyes. Theo sat up on his bed against the headboard, staring up at the green canopy that hung there.

"Are you sure?" Theo whispered; glad it was just the two of them that shared the dorm now that Blaise was in Italy.

"Do you think I would say it out loud if I wasn't fucking sure?" Draco growled.

Theo visibly shuddered and fear held him almost immobile. "So, this is never going to end?"

"I have three of six. Well, two. One of them is in the process."

"That leaves three more,"

"Hermione has those in hand. One is dead. They have one. And the last one is his pet snake."

"Nagini?" Theo said momentarily sidetracked before realizing what that last sentence meant. "How do you know what  _Hermione_  has or doesn't?"

"Isortamarriedher,"

"Say that again with your big boy words," Theo said with a huge grin, showing his sparkly white teeth.

"I married her," Draco said slowly as if Theo was incapable of following.

"Just nipped to Gretna Green and had done with it?" Theo snarked.

"No. Mors Arca Archa."

"Fuck!" Theo said, shocked. "That's… Mate, that's a last resort. Are you planning on dying?"

"What I know could get me killed at any time. This would ensure the continuation of the Malfoy line."

"I can't believe she went along with it. What about her memories? What are you going to do when she remembers everything?"

"She remembered before she left Hogwarts last June,"

"And she still married you? I thought for sure she would have killed you,"

"Not yet, but I imagine that when the war is over, I am in for it," Draco muttered with a smile.

"Why is that box glowing?" Theo asked suddenly.

"It's how Hermione and I communicate. I made them over the summer, modeled after the vanishing cabinet."

"That is some seriously awesome magic, Mate," Theo said jumping off the bed and reached for the lid of the box. He tried to lift it, but a wave of electricity zapped him, and he drew back his hand with a hiss. "You warded the boxes. If no one else can touch, you must have used blood-wards. You tied the boxes to the Malfoy bloodline, didn't you? Is that how you got her to marry you? You Slytherin son of a bitch," Theo accused fondly.

Draco smirked. He had no intention of telling Theo how unsure he was when he pressed the box into her hands after the Ministry fell. Fully expecting a rejection, he had been ridiculously pleased and surprised when he felt the magic binding them together as man and wife. Batting at Theo, Draco pulled the box off of his nightstand and onto the bed in front of him. Theo rounded the bed and sat against Draco's headboard.

Lifting the lid, he pulled out Hermione's latest essay with a smile and eagerly read it, Theo over his shoulder. When he got to the part about Potter and Weasley requesting  _in-depth lessons_ , he saw red. Theo began laughing hysterically. Then his blood ran cold when he realized Potter was asking him whether or not there was a safe way to come into Hogwarts.

Theo quickly grabbed writing materials.

_**Hermione Malfoy! Finally made Draco a man, huh? Good on you! I am in the know now, don't worry, my Occlumency far surpasses Draco's and he isn't exactly a slouch. -Theo Nott, the man you felt up that one time after Arithmancy.** _

_Hey Sweetheart, ignore Theo._

_I don't know of a safe way to get you three in right now. Let me talk to Snape and I'll see what we can do but I will do whatever necessary to make that happen. Don't make a move without talking to me first. There are so many Death Eaters prowling outside the grounds and Hogsmeade. They have even set up screamer charms, a curfew, and if the rumors are true, several Dementors roam there as well._

_I am glad you are unhurt._

_Love,_

_Draco_

Pulling out another piece of parchment, he began another letter.

_Potter,_

_If you need to learn anything, find someone else to teach you. Hermione has enough on her plate without you sucking her dry. You too, Weasley._

"That was positively congenial," Theo remarked on Draco's letter to Potter. Draco snorted and put the notes in the box, closing the lid to send them on.

A knock sounded at the door and both boys jumped to their feet as if they were caught with their pants down. Draco stopped and took a deep breath and slid the box back on his night side table. No matter who was at the door, neither Theo nor Draco had done anything wrong. That there was definite proof of, anyway.

Pansy stuck her head in just as Theo tugged on his outer robes. Draco was still lounging about in black trousers and a white button-up and he had no intention of putting on his robes until they walked out of the Common Room for breakfast.

"Hey Pans," Theo said with a lopsided smile.

Her smile was brittle as she looked at Theo.

"What's up, Pansy?" Draco asked.

She took a deep shuttering breath before breaking down into tears. She brought her hands up to cover her face. Draco began moving toward her, alarmed but Theo beat him and wrapped her in his long arms.

"What's wrong, Sweet?" Theo murmured in her ear.

For a moment, it seemed as if Pansy wouldn't answer but she lifted her face out of her hands and struggled to regain some control. "I was just at breakfast and one of the Ravenclaws, a second year, I think, was fooling around. You know, the usual crap the littles do. Well, Amycus raced up the aisle and pulled him off the bench by the back of his robes. The kid had seconds to prepare before Carrow used the Cruciatus. Right there. In the Great Hall. Snape swooped in, pulled the poor kid to safety but you and I both know what it is like… McGonagall carried the kid to Pomfrey. If that is what they are willing to do to little kids for no reason, what did they do to my brother before he was killed?"

"He used the Cruciatus? Right there?" Draco asked, stunned. He closed his eyes and breathed. It looked like he was going to have to grace every single meal for the whole year to make sure that someone could step in and stop the brutality. Other than Snape, Draco was the only one who could and still walk away after.

Theo wrapped his arms tighter around Pansy and pulled her into his chest, running his hand down her back in a soothing manner.

"We can't let this happen," Pansy said. "No one deserves that. Not even a Gryffindor,"

"What are you going to do?"

"What I have to," she said grimly.

"What if it  _is_  a Gryffindor?" Theo asked.

Pansy grimaced and wrinkled her nose, making her look more pug-like than usual. "We have to do what we can for the young ones. There is no way I could step in for the older students. They should know the lay of the land enough not to cause waves,"

"You know they won't, its Potter's crew," Draco said, waving his wand while setting privacy wards around the entire room. Then he turned to her and in a serious voice asked, "What would you do if I told you this all could be over soon?"

"You mean the war?" She asked, looking a bit nervous.

"Yes,"

"Who would win?"

"Who do you want to win. Really want. Not just prejudice or grudges against the other side. What kind of world do you want to live in?"

She nervously looked around as if one of the Carrows would jump out at any second. Then, she brought her wide doe-eyes to his and whispered, "Theirs,"

"Say it,"

"Potter."

Draco nodded and smiled. "How good is your Occlumency, Pansy?"

She raised her chin and sniffed. "Theo has been teaching me for the last year,"

Draco's brows rose and he turned to his best friend. "Theo?"

Theo smirked. "I thought maybe she could help us with Granger last year,"

"Granger?" She asked, confused.

"Oh, that's right," Theo said with a devilish smirk. "She isn't a Granger anymore, is she Draco?"

Draco rolled his eyes but couldn't help his own smile. "Granger is my wife now, Pansy, and I have been helping her and Potter to end the war."

"Oh, shit! When did that happen?" Pansy exclaimed surprised but was clearly not overly angry. "Not that I'm surprised,"

Pansy gave Draco some major side-eye as if she had suspected his feelings long ago. Draco winced. He supposed he wasn't as good at hiding his feelings as he thought.

"Which part isn't a surprise?" Theo said snickering. "The part where he has been helping Potter or marrying Granger?"

"Both, I guess,"

"Helping Potter is fairly recent." Draco said.

Theo's grin grew, transforming his already handsome face into something truly remarkable. "And marrying Granger isn't?"

"That had been building for more than a year. I suspect it would have happened eventually," Draco said, cocky.

"How do you want me to help?" Pansy asked, cutting through his bullshit.

"I don't know yet," Draco admitted. "I need to keep getting into the Room of Hidden Things without raising suspicion. It might take me a while too."

"What about the kids?" Theo asked.

"I can't be everywhere, but I can stop the Carrows a bit, redirect their ire."

"How? By taking the punishment?" Theo asked with an eye roll.

Draco just looked at him grimly and Theo looked away turning a bit green.

"You won't last long if you do that, Mate," Theo said.

"I have an idea," Pansy said. "Why don't I suggest to Amycus that we students need to practice the Cruciatus and suggest that those students who will receive that punishment could receive the spell from us,"

Draco and Theo looked sick.

"No matter what, our spells wouldn't have the wicked strength that the Carrow's have. Do you have a better idea?" she finished.

"I wish I did," Theo said. "But I see where you are going with this. That spell from us would be weaker than theirs. It would protect most of the students from getting worse punishments,"

"Except," Draco began with a grimace. "that spell hurts no matter the weakness of the castor."

"You can't take every punishment, Draco," Pansy said firmly. "Most students wouldn't have the stomach to actually try and master that spell, me included. Our next focus would have to be on those students who want to be Death Eaters."

"Alright, it's a start at least," Draco said.

"I have third block free, same as you. I'll be your lookout for the Room." Theo said.

"What are you looking for?" Pansy asked.

"Would you be offended if I didn't tell you just yet?" Draco said seriously. "I want to make sure your shields are impenetrable first. If  _he_  finds out what we are doing, we will all be dead and any chance of ending this war will be over."

Pansy nodded. "No matter what it is, I will give my assistance, no questions asked."

"We have to make it convincing, our loyalty act," Theo said gently.

"What the hell do you think I have been doing since my brother died," Pansy snarled.

Draco nodded and grabbed his robes, glancing at the box that had a slight blue glow to it. With a nod, he gestured to Theo to escort Pansy out of their dorm. Once the door was shut and Draco was alone, he reached in the box and pulled out Hermione's note.

_We won't make a move to enter Hogwarts until we hear from you. Stay safe!_

_Love,_

_Hermione_

Draco folded the note up until it was tiny and slipped it into the breast pocket of his Oxford. He wanted her heart next to his. Did that make him overly sentimental? Perhaps. He smiled, stroking his pocket before shrugging on his robes.

He had been at Hogwarts for nearly two days and felt as if he was being thrust into battle, just as surely as Potter. Pushing his shoulders back, he affected a bored look and left the dorm. As a Slytherin, he didn't have the luxury of declaring against his enemies. He had to coax them as close as lovers before driving his dagger through their hearts. Who could do the thing better than a Slytherin?

The corridors crawled with students uncharacteristically early and Draco surmised the major problem was what Pansy had witnessed in the Great Hall. No one wanted to be caught out by surprise. Though, it was inevitable. The Carrows were revving to dole out cruel punishment to any and everyone.

Reverent heads bowed to him in the halls and he held his carefully crafted blank mask as close as possible, wrapping the cold persona around him as if it were his security blanket. Rarely did he nod back.

A flash of red caught the periphery of his vision and he turned before realizing what he was doing. Weasley's blue eyes might have been ice chips taken from the ice caverns of the oldest glaciers, it was so cold and cutting. She stood against the wall next to a classroom, Longbottom grimly holding her elbow in a death grip. He smirked - the old, pre-Granger smirk. The unkind, antagonistic one that made Potter see red each and every time. It must have triggered her because suddenly Longbottom's arms were full of an angry, writhing witch. Her wand was taken by Longbottom and once Draco knew for certain he wasn't going to get a spell to the back, he turned away from them and headed to his first class, choosing to skip that morning's meal. The last one he would skip as long as the Dark Lord had control of Hogwarts.

Finally, he stood outside of Transfiguration with the others who had begun to queue and leaned against the cool stone. Theo and Pansy strolled up after a few minutes, giving him a grim nod. They must have already talked to Amycus and gotten affirmation. His gut turned cold and clenched, hard. It was a good thing that he hadn't eaten that morning because he wasn't sure he had the ability to keep it in his stomach. There was nothing he wanted to do less than cast the Cruciatus on the children of Hogwarts. But it was his duty – everyone's duty - to protect the young.

McGonagall opened the classroom door and welcomed her students in. "Mr. Malfoy, a moment," she said sharply.

He nodded, keeping up his blank mask and his relaxed pose against the wall. Once all the other students were inside, she snapped the door shut and approached him like a stalking lioness who was advancing on her chosen prey.

"Don't think that I will forgive or forget that you brought about the death of Albus Dumbledore. As harsh as your brothers-in-arms are with the other students, I shall be equally as harsh with you. Look forward to it," she said in her deep highland brogue.

He blinked, feeling exactly as culpable as she accused him to be. He deserved her scorn, her punishment. For a moment, his mask slipped, remorse taking its place. Not that his remorse changed her feelings or mind, if anything, she looked even angrier at seeing it.

"Anything else, Minerva?" He said, looking her in the eye. He had to pretend, had to let the weight of the mark give him unparalleled power. Her upper lip curled in derision and stepped back. Even she wasn't so foolish to stand in the way of one of the Dark Lord's chosen.

Draco strolled into the room and took his seat next to Theo, occluding as if his life depended on it. How else would he protect his soul from those that didn't know what was going on?

"Everything okay?" Theo asked under his breath.

Draco nodded and stroked his robes over his heart, wishing he could pull out her note and read again of Hermione's faith and love.

**HGHG**

Snape's hands were flat on his desk and his head was bowed, his long hair hanging over him like a shield. His breathing was ragged and desperate as if no amount of inhaling would be enough.

"Minimalize," Dumbledore's portrait said. "We knew they were going to cause harm. We knew that, Severus. Your job as Headmaster is to minimalize the damage."

"The fucker Crucioed a second-year right in the Great Hall for nothing more than being annoying! I'll admit to having such thoughts myself while in mid-year potions, but I wouldn't actually do it! Who uses that spell on a child?"

"Let's not kid ourselves, Severus. Your brethren have done worse to even younger children than a Crucio to a second year."

"I'm in charge of these students," Snape said through clenched teeth. "I had no control over those other tragedies."

"Perhaps," Dumbledore agreed.

Suddenly a note appeared on his desk and Snape recognized the untidy scrawl of Amycus. Bracing himself, he tore it open and read, curling his lip higher and higher.

"Amycus just informed me that all future punishments that require administering of the Crucio will be cast by upperclassmen as a source of education and practice," Snape growled. Heavily, he sat back on his chair and glowered at the note.

"I wonder who came up with that idea," Dumbledore said, stroking his acrylic beard.

"Does it matter?"

"I think it does. You might have more support in Hogwarts than we initially thought,"

"Are you suggesting someone planted this idea to help the other students?"

"Of course! Students aren't capable of the biting Unforgivables that the Carrows would be. Minimalize,"

Snape sighed heavily and rubbed his face. "I don't think this is going to be the minimalization you are hoping for. I think we are going to see an uptick in cruel behavior from a larger student base."

"We are just going to have to have some faith."

"Faith is a little sparse on the ground, Albus,"

Dumbledore snorted. "And yet, Draco Malfoy is our greatest secret weapon. How can you not have faith?"

"I will admit, he has pleasantly surprised me in all of this,"

"And you don't even know the half of it," Dumbledore said with a twinkle.

**HGHG**

Draco smacked Theo on the back of his shoulder in comradery as he passed him to enter into the Room of Hidden Things. As the door appeared before him, he stared, apprehension a ghostly shiver up his spine. After last year, he had thought he would never have to enter the room again but here he was, entering with his own free will, knowing that doing so would make the world a better place. He squared his shoulders and grit his teeth, reaching out for the magical knob. With a twist and a pull, he was face to face with the room he practically lived in for his sixth year.

It was just the same as it always was. The ruinous piles of contraband twisted bizarrely in the wreckage of the first three aisles. He turned away his head and closed his eyes. All the terrible moments of the last year happened there and he would sooner forget them than relive them, but he was there to change his fate, to allow forgiveness for himself, to choose the path of morality and goodness. He wasn't the boy he was then. That boy was weak, struggling, helpless, caught up in a web of someone else's making. Today, he forged a new path, continuing down the road of becoming a better man.

He walked past those first three aisles of reminders and delved further into the sanctity that the Room of Hidden Things represented. From his back pocket, he pulled a portrait in miniature. It had been a gift from the illustrious Ravenclaw family to his, many years ago. The frame was so small, it could fit in his palm easily, and glanced at the woman who resided there.

She was beautiful, in an unconventional way. More than classically beautiful, she was brilliant, and intelligence shined out of her very being. Her shiny brown hair was pulled back into a low hanging chignon, her Medieval blue gown wrapped tightly to her torso by a belt made of silver dragon scales. Above all of that, her most notable feature was the crown that sat on top of her head. Alone, it was majestic, the silver finely wrought and delicately twisted into high peaks, blemished only by the flawless sapphires that adorned the goblin wrought metal.

The Diadem.

Rowena Ravenclaw, as a young woman, looked out at him smiling and blushing. He ignored her, knowing that this tiny miniature was only a wispy remembrance of the Hogwarts founder. She didn't speak, unable to impart the wisdom of her life like other portraits. But that was okay. He needed to know only what the Diadem looked like, not understand its history.

He looped down into an aisle and slowed, looking among the junk without actually touching. Too many things in the room were hazardous to touch and he had spent enough time among them to be cautious. He closed his eyes and let himself relax, pulling up remembrances of the toxic magic that sang to him from the cup during its one and only foray into the world. Draco needed to trace that miasma as if he were the number one award-winning bloodhound, sniffing his way through the maze of contraband.

As he stood there, he felt the pull of darkness calling to him, beckoning him like a seductress. In equal parts, the embedded soul wanted to stay hidden and wanted to come into the light, finding its way into the hands of man once again. To its master and its other shattered pieces that it ached to join, reuniting the whole as nature had always intended.

Draco snorted and followed the perversion that called from its hidden nook. Down this aisle and that, he wove indistinctly until he was all turned around and wondered if he would make it back out alive, he was so lost. Just another bit of fuel for his already terrifying nightmares, no doubt. But he was dogged, and stiffened his spine, determined to be a better man than he was the day before and the day before that. He had a wife now that he had to consider, and she was the best of the best. A woman who wouldn't tolerate anything other than a man who was a clip above the rest.

Then, all at once the Horcrux called out to him from his right. He stopped in his tracks and searched among the rabble. But it was in front of his face and he stared in disbelief at the tarnished tiara that sat upon the wig topped bust of a wizard long dead. Was it the right crown? Could it really be the Diadem he had spent days searching for? Draco looked down at the miniature in his hand and back up at the unbecoming patina and curled his lip. It was the right one alright. He could feel it, the dark tentacles reaching out for him, hoping to smother him in a tidal wave of fear.

Draco grabbed the moleskin bag and relaxed the neck, making room for the wider ring of the Diadem. With the edge of his robe, he grabbed the relic and teased it over the lip of Hufflepuff's cup as the darkness tried to convince him of his unworthiness as if he didn't already know. Once the Diadem was securely in his bag, he tied off the top, making sure that the bag would hold two Horcruxes and sighed in deep relief. He had to convince Hermione not to wear the one she had. If it was anything like the ones he was dealing with, handling it would be paramount to insanity. The constant ebb and flow of the darkest of thoughts overtaking all else. He feared what would happen to her if the exposure was too prolonged and decided he would get them into the castle as quickly as he could. With or without help from the current Headmaster.

"Point me," he murmured, setting his wand on his flat palm and watched as it spun around and around. Finally, it landed somewhere to his left and he turned, glad to be rid of the place. If he could help it, he would never set another toe into the room.

Draco left without any incident and Theo gave him a double thumbs up the moment he saw Draco. Together they made their way back to the dormitory, tired but in high spirits. Tomorrow would be the day he destroyed two Horcruxes but first, he had to make it through double Defense with Professor Carrow. And it was sure to be grizzly, he thought grimly if some of the plans that they had whispered in his ear upon receiving the appointment ever came to light.

As he laid in bed that night, a shining beacon of hope surged in him and he vaulted out of his bed, immediately reaching for the highly lacquered box.

_Instead of storming the castle, why don't you just send the Horcrux through?_

He waited impatiently, pacing the length and breadth of the room, waking Theo from his slumber.

"What time is it?" Theo asked, reaching for his glasses. Draco's lips curled up on one side but other than that gave no indication that he even knew Theo was awake. After waiting through the longest ten minutes he had ever lived through, the box glowed blue. He jumped on it as if he feared it might scurry away at the sign of any movement.

_I have put the damn thing in the box, but the lid won't close with it inside. I can put rocks, sticks, anything really, except this. Thoughts?_

Draco snorted but his stomach began to sink.

_When have you sent through rocks?_

Smiling, he wondered if she made a habit of putting odd things in the box and suddenly wished he could devise a way to make the box bigger or smaller depending on his current wishes. If she could resize the thing, she could just come through. That would save them a lot of time and heartache. And he could see her every day too.

Draco looked off into the distance as he began considering the schematics for such a thing when the box glowed blue.

_That morning when you didn't answer right away. I thought something was wrong with it._

He snorted again and covered his mouth. Theo yawned obnoxiously loud and turned over, obviously trying to drag an apology out of Draco. Not going to happen.

_Nothing is wrong with it. When you try to close it, what happens?_

Draco sat back on his bed, back pressed against the headboard, his only source of communication with his wife between his knees.

_It closes until there are about six inches remaining and then won't close any further. I tried sitting on it, had the boys try too, put a heavy rock on it… no matter what, it won't close._

He thought back to the vanishing cabinet in the Room of Hidden Things. There was nothing they couldn't send. Then again, he had never tried to send a Horcrux.

_The original cabinets supported just about everything, including human transfers._

If Greyback could go through, he surmised that anything could. He opened the lid the moment the box glowed blue.

_Maybe there is something else that this box has that the other one…. Oh Damn! The Malfoy wards! Inanimate objects are one thing, but we can't transfer anything that has a soul unless it is Malfoy in origin._

_**Way to go Malfoy, bollocking it all up again. -Harry** _

_Ignore Harry. It's fine. This hasn't changed anything. We will continue on with our current plan. It would have been nice and easy that way but when has anything been easy? We will figure this out. Don't forget to ask Professor Snape about the passages._

_All My Love,_

_Hermione_

Draco choked back his frustration and disappointment. His safety measure was the sole reason the war wouldn't end on the morrow and that did not sit well. Not at all.


	18. Two Remain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to CJRed who Alpha read this story.

**Chapter Eighteen- Two Remain**

Draco sat between Theo and Pansy in the Great Hall the next morning for breakfast, watching the student body like a great hawk. Uncharacteristic silence crushed the room. No one wanted to be the next one tortured. Finally, their predicament seemed to sink in. This year was not like any other year. This year would be about survival.

Then all of a sudden, his eyes met and held with Longbottom's. No longer was Hermione's ally a scared child but had set his teeth and glared with all the fury of the righteous. Draco flicked his gaze up at the dais, noting that the Carrows were deep in discussion. Then he looked around the room to make sure he wasn't being watched. Finally, he turned back to Longbottom and gave him a tiny, minute nod.

The shock on his face would have been comical if it wasn't so damn important to stay in character. Draco resumed scanning the hall, ignoring the Gryffindor's stare. This is why he couldn't involve Gryffindors in anything. They had no subtlety. Except for Hermione. His lips lifted in a half-smile and he reached for his pumpkin juice to cover it.

Owls swooped in, rustling and screeching. The nostalgia hit him like a ton of bricks. He could imagine looking over at the Gryffindor table and seeing her. If he ever had the chance to attend school with her again, he would cross the damn divide and sit with her, pushing Potter and Weasley further down the bench. Leaning in, he would drop the sweetest kiss to her forehead, sweeping her curly locks onto her far shoulder.

With a hoot, an owl drew Draco's attention. He was a handsome barn owl, one owned by the school, with one haughty leg thrown out. Pressed into the black wax was the seal of the Headmaster. Draco arched a single brow and the moment the owl was free of his burden, Draco looked questioningly at Snape. Not one ounce of recognition.

He pocketed the scroll and was suddenly caught in the sneering attention of the Carrows. He stared right back, knowing he was playing a deadly game. His family wasn't high enough on the Dark Lord's ladder to be considered a threat, but he was in the inner circle. It was no secret that the Dark Lord had plans for him in the future. That, he imagined, was the biggest reason why he had been left alone so far.

Amycus stood after tossing his napkin on the side of his plate, a curling sneer directed at Draco. Other than stiffening his shoulders, Draco showed no sign of being affected. He knew what was coming. Finally, the Carrows were beginning to feel drunk on their power. Like a kid who intended to raid the cookie jar, Amycus strolled to where he was sitting.

"Draco Malfoy," Amycus said through twisted lips.

"Amycus," he said, refusing to be cowed.

"Professor Carrow, to you, boy,"

Draco snorted. "I would, but that would mean you are above me in rankings and that just isn't so,"

"Your father couldn't be farther from the top,"

"I am not my father." When Draco had volunteered to go on the raid after the Ministry fell, his worth had risen in the Dark Lord's eyes. He had maneuvered himself into a position of, not power, but somewhere in the middle. There was safety in being in the center of the masses.

Carrow sneered and leaned in, holding his wand in a death grip. "Someday, you will fall too, and I will be right there to enjoy it,"

Draco smiled at him and said, "You will fall much sooner than I,"

Snape stood by the door to the Great Hall and watched the quibble with little interest, or so it seemed. Draco gave him a short nod of respect and turned his attention back to Amycus, leaning in. "If I were you, I would be more conscientious about what forms of punishment used on the children of peers. I heard that one of the children you subjected the Cruciatus to was Amber Yaxley. How did her father react to that, I wonder?"

Amycus stopped short. "Where did you hear that? I never touched Yaxley's brat!"

"No? I was so sure that was the name… Oops. Guess I will have to write Yaxley  _another_  letter saying that I was mistaken," Draco said, looking for all the world as if he made a regrettable mistake before turning and leaving breakfast, a shaking Amycus Carrow rooted in place. Draco doubted that the Carrows would be so quick to dole out ruthless punishments after that. A warning expertly delivered.

"Very nicely done," Snape said quietly as he fell into step with Draco.

"Thanks," Together they walked the stairway and halls, heading to the Headmaster's office. The journey was mostly completed in silence, but it was comfortable, companionable. No one appreciated the quiet quite like Severus Snape.

Once they were firmly ensconced behind the thick wards of the Headmaster's office, Draco sat in the chair in front of Snape's desk.

"Potter needs a way to get in," Draco began, watching his godfather. Snape predictably sneered as if unconsciously and Draco pressed his lips together to keep from chuckling. He too had a special loathing for Potter, however being Hermione's husband made him play nice. Snape had no such compunctions.

"How would you know what Potter needs?" Snape asked. He literally couldn't say the name without the heat of dislike.

"I've been communicating with them," Draco said easily.

"Really?" Dumbledore said, leaning forward in his painting a look of interest in his eyes. "How?"

"That is between them and me," he said. There was no way he was going to say, not when his expertise came at the price of the Headmaster's death.

Dumbledore pursed his lips, clearly not a fan of being left out of the loop. "Are they safe?"

"For now," Draco answered. "They need to get into Hogwarts though."

"Yes, they do," Snape agreed, lip still slightly curled in distaste.

"Is there a way?"

"All of the passageways are either blocked or being watched. As Headmaster, I was unable to keep even one open. It would have probably cost me my life," Snape said and behind him, Dumbledore was nodding seriously. "However, I know for a fact that the Room of Requirement could make such a passageway if the need is great enough,"

"What are you suggesting?"

"There will come a time where Potter's young allies will make themselves known," Snape rolled his eyes. "And when they do, they will bring the Carrows down on their heads. Sooner than later with the new implementation of using students to curse their rule-breaking classmates. They will need somewhere to hide."

"Are you suggesting I tell them where to go?" Draco asked incredulously.

"If what I saw in Longbottom's mind is any indication, I believe he, at least, would take your advice. He is watching you and has noticed that you are protecting students.  _All_  students from the Carrows."

Draco shrugged. He wasn't going to elaborate any more on the subject. "What do I tell him so that he makes a passageway through the Room?"

"He will need food if he plans to be in there for a prolonged period,"

"Why not just summon a House elf?"

"I will give them orders that they are not to enter into the Room of Requirement for any reason. We will tell the Dark Lord that the magic of the room disallows even their magic."

"Alright. This seems like a good option, except, how long will this take? Potter is frothing at the mouth to get in. I think it is only Hermione's threat that keeps him impatiently waiting,"

"I don't think it will be very long at all," Dumbledore said. "No more than two weeks,"

"Two weeks," Draco said, feeling sick. Two weeks until he could see Hermione? Damn!

"I could have said months," Snape said acerbically.

Draco nodded even if he was disappointed.

"Severus," Dumbledore said from his portrait, "can we have a moment alone?"

Snape rose with the air of the long-suffering and with billowing robes, made to climb the stairs to enter his personal chambers but was stopped before he set his foot on the first stair. "Send someone to fetch me when you are through,"

"Before you go," Dumbledore began, "leave the Sword?"

Snape approached Dumbledore's portrait and swung the painting on a hinge away from the wall. Behind his portrait was a hidden safe, accessible only to a few. Snape drew the Sword from where it rested and laid it across his desk.

"We could always have you leave it for them near where they are hiding," Dumbledore said to Snape conversationally. "If Draco could tell us where they were, we could get the Sword to them,"

"That wouldn't work for several months. I am being watched. Bellatrix is still making noises about my loyalty or lack thereof."

"After you killed me, surely he doesn't suspect you," Dumbledore said conversationally, and Draco didn't miss the minute wince from Snape.

"No, he doesn't. He is merely humoring her,"

"We must always remain cautious," Dumbledore said with sympathy.

Snape nodded stiffly at Draco and left him alone in his office surrounded by portraits. He looked up and noticed Victus smiling at him as if Draco was his pride and joy. He ignored the portrait and turned back to Dumbledore.

"You wanted to speak to me?"

"What two Horcruxes do you have?" Dumbledore shifted in excitement.

Draco stood and pulled his moleskin out of the innermost pocket of his robes. It bulged, filled to capacity. He took a deep breath before he opened the neck, knowing the moment that the artifacts saw the light of day, they would begin spreading their toxic miasma. Reaching in, he pulled the Horcruxes out together, the Diadem hooked around Hufflepuff's cup. Wanting them away from his skin as soon as possible, he fairly dropped the two on the desktop.

"The cup and… is that Ravenclaw's Diadem?" Dumbledore said with a considerable amount of excitement.

"Yes,"

"How did you find out about the Diadem?" Dumbledore was looking at him with pride shining out of his eyes with such magnificence that Draco couldn't help the pink that flushed his cheeks. He couldn't remember a time anyone looked at him like that except his mother.

"My grandfather had watched him make it," Draco mumbled, embarrassed.

"Never did I count Malfoy House as such valuable allies," Dumbledore said, still beaming. "That is an old man's prejudice and mistake,"

Nodding, Draco hefted the Sword of Gryffindor, surprised how comforting the steel felt in his hands.

"Only the courageous and pure of heart can wield that sword," Dumbledore said smiling. "You seem to have more Gryffindor traits than you would like to admit,"

Draco grunted and wrinkled his nose, his old prejudices and rivalries flaring up. "What do I do now?"

"Use the sword to kill them,"

"Like this?" he asked holding the hilt with both hands, the sharp edge resting lightly against the lip of the cup.

"Swing it true, with purpose. If you give it enough of a chance, they will try and deter you,"

"There is nothing they can say that would change my mind," Draco said firmly, thinking of a world without Hermione.

"Then swing away, my boy, swing away,"

Draco took a steadying breath and swung the steel up over his shoulder as if he was holding a muggle bat. He paused, only for the space of a breath as the portraits went completely silent, pouring every ounce of rage and despair that he had felt since he had been marked into the swing.

He heard them then, the Horcruxes, as they began to tear down his defenses, but they were much too late for that. For weeks the cup had been shielded and the Diadem had been in his possession less than twenty-four hours. They didn't know how to attack him, to draw him into watching his greatest fears. There wasn't any connection they could exploit.

With a shrieking screech of metal on metal, the Sword of Gryffindor rent through the terrible artifacts, delivering their death knell. Before him, sat the warped remains of two Horcruxes and Draco stared at them. It hadn't been satisfying enough and for something that seemed insurmountable, felt a bit anticlimactic.

The ruined encasements seemed to bleed onto the desk, a dark viscous liquid that soaked into all of the parchments. Draco couldn't move to save Snape's correspondence, though he realized that he was in a mild state of shock. He wished he felt more powerful or accomplished or on top of the world, but he didn't. He couldn't. Not until they were all destroyed, and Hermione was in his arms for the rest of their lives.

"Well done!" Dumbledore said compassionately. Of everyone in the room, only Dumbledore had destroyed a Horcrux before and probably the only one to know what he was feeling. "It isn't a simple or a glorious thing in the moment. That feeling will come later."

"I don't want glory. I just want this to end," Draco whispered, eyes still glued to the ruined artifacts.

"That is the way of a hero, my boy," Dumbledore said softly. "Now, you must clean this up. The Headmaster must not see any evidence that would endanger our mission."

Draco nodded and lifted his wand, casting the first spell he could think of, " _Evanesco_."

Everything that had been covered in the goopy liquid was gone, including the mangled husks in which the soul had been placed. Snape wasn't going to appreciate the fact that half of his correspondence disappeared but there was no help for it. Not if he needed to keep his doings from the Headmaster. A small stain about the size of his Hogwarts crest remained on the top of the wood desk and there it would remain until the very end of time.

**HGHG**

Unlike their last camping spot, their tent was erected just inside the line of forest at the edge of a small market town. Hunger began clawing at them and they hoped the town would be rich in offerings.

Hermione's stomach growled and she grimaced, wishing for the thousandth time that she had packed more food in her magically extended bag. When she had packed the food from Kreacher, she, like the boys, had assumed they would return to Grimmauld Place after their sojourn to the Ministry. None of them foretold a situation where they would be so completely cut off from everyone and everything. Earlier, she had split the last piece of steak and kidney pie with the boys. None of them had quite enough.

"What are we going to do for food?" Ron asked her for the umpteenth time.

"If you are so hungry, you figure it out," she snapped, finally at the end of her patience. "I have just as much clue of what to do about it as you do."

Just then, Harry walked back into the tent having gone after some food, anything he could scrounge from the town. His invisibility cloak was draped over one arm and his face looked drawn.

"What happened?" Hermione asked, concerned.

"Dementors in town," Harry murmured with a frown.

"And?" Ron began unkindly. "You can make a Patronus!"

"I couldn't…"

"Calm down Ron," Hermione said scathingly, then as if a light went off in her head, she sat straight up, spine stiffened. "The locket. Merlin, Harry take off the locket,"

Without another thought, he reached up and drew the chain over his head and flung it onto the floor of the tent.

"Better?"

Harry nodded, already his expression as lighter, less depressed and she sighed a breath of relief.

"We still have nothing to eat," Ron muttered before kicking the leg of the chair. His grimace turned into a growl and he gave both Hermione and Harry a look of angry disgust before turning about-face and stomped into the bedrooms.

Harry and Hermione gave each other a look of grim understanding. Both of them had gone through hardships, through periods of their lives when food wasn't always available. Harry because of his neglect at the hands of his horrible family and Hermione from the constant research that always took precedence, meals secondary. A bad feeling settled in the pit of her stomach and she hoped this wouldn't break them.

"We shouldn't stay here," Harry said almost under his breath. Hermione nodded and eyed the Horcrux on the floor, knowing they would continue to wear it despite knowing that the harm that it caused would multiply exponentially the longer they did.

"He'll come around," Hermione muttered for Harry's benefit but wasn't so sure he would come around fast enough. Last year Ron and Hermione hadn't talked for several months and the only reason that fight had fallen through was that Ron was poisoned and it seemed silly to continue being angry with him after that. Idly, she wondered what would have happened if he hadn't been poisoned. Would they ever had made up?

Hermione swept the necklace into her hand and draped the thing over her head. No, she wasn't sure they would have made up. He was perfectly willing to drop the friendship at the time. The grove between her eyes deepened as she frowned.

She walked outside as Harry went back to talk to Ron and Hermione began the arduous process of dismantling the protective wards. Silently the two boys joined her, lifting their wands in tandem, packing up the tent behind her.

**HGHG**

Draco wanted to knock his head against the stone of the wall behind him as Weasley, Longbottom, and Lovegood were led into a classroom just to his left. The trio had tried to break into Snape's office to search for the Sword of Gryffindor, freely admitting that they aimed to make sure the Sword was in Potter's hands.

"The Sword isn't even in there," Amycus sneered, leaning in until he was inches away from Ginny Weasley's face. Had he been even one centimeter closer, Draco surmised that she would have opened her mouth and sunk her teeth into any part of Amycus she could latch onto. Particularly, his nose. Alecto stood behind her brother tittering and eyeing Longbottom up and down as if she was thinking of buying valuable horseflesh. Draco rolled his lip in disgust.

Weasley and the rest stood in stony silence, finally. Hopefully, they realized what their actions cost. He didn't hold out for that, though. Gryffindors had the annoying inability to stay silent when they felt wronged. It was all fight and passion, very little maneuvering. No waiting for the right time to strike. They were in your face, constant rebellion. At that moment, Draco could see Hermione in Weasley, both had eyes that flashed with the depths of their feelings, burning whoever dared cross them. He smirked. There was no question, he missed his witch.

The Carrows fingered their wands, clearly wondering at the wisdom of casting their own unforgivable on the students. Alecto broke first, flicking her wand at the door. One dark column broke off from the main and hovered right in front of Draco, the other continuing down the corridor.

She had summoned a few of the physically closest students to come and administer punishment. Draco let his notice-me-not drop and straightened his robes before sharply turning, a single pale hand reaching for the brass knob.

The Carrows blanched almost simultaneously as he met and held their gaze.

"I have things to do. What is it?" Draco said, giving no more than a cursory glance at the row of Hermione's allies.

"These rule-breakers must have punishment. Two rounds of the Cruciatus, twenty seconds each."

Draco's brows rose to his hairline. "Twenty seconds? Trying to turn them mad?"

Amycus' face turned thunderous. "They were caught sneaking around, breaking into the Headmaster's office. We can provide the proof,"

Draco looked at them without a single thought filtering onto his face. Internally he was cursing. He had hoped the evidence was circumstantial. Looked like he was going to have to cast an unforgivable. On Hermione's allies, no less.

"What is taking the others so long?" Alecto asked, shifting her weight from one leg to another.

"Go look," Amycus said. "Draco can take care of the punishments alone, after all, he was taught by the Dark Lord himself,"

Alecto left, needing to find out what happened to her summons and rain hellfire on the students who ignored it. Amycus transfigured a crude chair and sat with a satisfied smirk that was directed at Draco's back.

He looked at the three offenders in front of him and tried to think of a way out when he caught Longbottom's piercing gaze. For a second, Draco thought he imagined the slight nod but when Longbottom closed his eyes in preparation, he knew he hadn't imagined a thing.

The door opened and Theo Nott sauntered in, Pansy at his heels.

"Snape wants to see you," Theo said nonchalantly, looking at Amycus and nodded to the line of Potter's allies. "We will take care of this,"

Amycus Carrow fairly growled and stalked out of the door. Pansy was at the glass of the door in seconds and the moment Amycus had disappeared down the corridor, she gave a thumbs up.

"Merlin's fucking left nut, Longbottom. Not making this shit easy on us, are you?" Draco said running his hand through his hair in frustration. "Anyway, Potter will have his hands on the sword soon. You don't need to worry about that. However, Dumbledore said that you should probably disappear into the Room of Requirement if things start to heat up around here. Though you can't get food in there, the room can make a passageway to Hogsmeade. So, when you set up the room, make sure you are exact with what you need it to do."

"Why are you helping us?" Longbottom asked, puffed up and stood protectively in front of the witches he was with, shifting slightly to hide them as if Draco was the enemy.

"Because he has a thing with Hermione," Ginny Weasley said from behind Longbottom's shoulder, looking at Draco with the smug look of someone who had been burning with the secret.

"WHAT!?" Longbottom nearly yelled.

Theo tsked, looking at the Gryffindor as if he was a bit slow. "Anyone with eyes could see how goopy they were last year. Merlin Longbottom, get with it!"

"We weren't that obvious, Mate," Draco said and Pansy, who was still looking out of the door, snorted.

Ginny threw a considering glance at Pansy then said, "No, Malfoy is right. It wasn't obvious. I wouldn't have known either, but I happened upon them once while they were in an abandoned classroom. I didn't want to embarrass Hermione, so I didn't say anything. But, Neville, you know Hermione. She is the smartest of us all. If she trusts the Ferret, I think we can too." Draco rolled his eyes at the nickname but wondered what exactly she had seen. She caught his eye and smiled even wider. "He apparently has a magic tongue,"

"Ew," Longbottom said, looking a bit green and Draco blushed, pinning Theo with his glare. Theo had been somewhere close by when that was going down. Why hadn't he noticed the She-Weasel and prevented any such peeping?

"Sorry, Mate," Theo said, holding his hands up in surrender. Draco rolled his eyes and ran his hand through his hair.

"As fun as this has been, let's wrap up. I don't know how long Snape will hold them off for." Pansy interrupted.

"Well, I am not going to ignore the fact you have stepped in more than once to protect other students from the Carrows," Longbottom admitted then continued. "If Dumbledore is talking to you as well, I should probably listen. I will disappear tomorrow and set up the room."

"Find me and let me know when that passage into the school is open," Draco said.

After a brief internal struggle, Longbottom nodded then said, "now for the Cruciatus…"

"You can't seriously believe we are going to cast that, do you?" Theo asked, his face drained of all color. He looked panicked and sick as if the thought was enough for nightmares.

"You have to. There are aftereffects and the Carrows will be looking for the signs." Longbottom said.

"I can't mate," Theo said, turning white.

Draco wished that Theo had stepped up because no matter how much he didn't want to; his spell would hurt much less than Draco's. His was strong and powerful and almost as biting as the Carrows. The Dark Lord had ensured it when he forced Draco to dole out punishments over the summer to fully grown Death Eaters.

Pansy sighed. "I can't," Not since her brother, Asher, was killed by his master's own hand could she make that spell work.

Draco grimly accepted that the only person able to cast it was himself and closed his eyes to center himself, occluding to the best of his ability. Without any more prompting or stalling, he raised his wand and looked Longbottom dead in the eye. Longbottom clenched his teeth and nodded again. "Crucio,"

It wasn't the first time Draco cast the unforgivable on another person and he knew it wouldn't be the last. Penitence wasn't all begging and crying. Sometimes it was doing what was needed to survive for the cause to continue moving forward. And in this case, it was casting the Cruciatus on an ally.

Longbottom collapsed like a ton of bricks and began thrashing, only screaming when he could no longer hold it together. Draco counted the seconds with single-minded focus. No one in the room would go mad by his overeager casting.

Once the twenty seconds were up, Draco lifted the spell and watched as Weasley kneeled next to her fallen friend and rubbed his back as he sobbed into the floor. Having been under the spell himself, Draco knew what Longbottom was feeling. But Draco was just as pragmatic as Longbottom was and knew, they couldn't skimp on the punishment. He would administer exactly the terms laid down by the Carrows and no more.

"I'll be next," came the small feminine voice of Luna Lovegood. Draco looked at her, a small waif of a girl and nodded with respect. What a brave little girl. He could see why Hermione liked her so much.

Pansy suddenly stepped back from the door and murmured, "Snape,"

Longbottom was still on the floor when Snape opened the door and took stock. Draco stood over the Gryffindor with his wand held poised and ready. Snape met his eyes and for the first time since he was marked, Draco let the man in, showing him the last several minutes.

Snape took a moment to check behind him and then faced them and affected a bored drawl. "Unforgivables are unnecessary at this time. Since it was my office and my doors weren't even breached, I give them detention with Hagrid instead."

Amycus walked in behind the headmaster with a pinched look at this pronouncement.

"And he will take you all and enter the Forbidden Forest," Snape said with a sadistic smile.

Draco watched Snape with a deepening respect. Amycus shuddered and smirked as he looked from one terrified student to the next. But Draco knew that as long as they had Hagrid to guide them, they would be perfectly safe.

**HGHG**

"The box is glowing," Harry said from where he sat on his bed.

Hermione's heart instantly sped into overdrive and she reached, excited for the note.

"Tell him we need food," Ron said belligerently. Hermione threw him a disgusted look but then was furious with herself for not thinking of that first.

She reached in the box and grabbed the note, settling down on her bed to read it.

_Afternoon Love,_

_I wish this was all over. Today was a day of highs and lows. First thing this morning, I met with Snape in the Headmasters office and we have devised a way for you all to get in. It will take a week or two to set up though, so you will need to stay hidden for a little while longer. Secondly, I destroyed the two Horcruxes I had in my possession._

_The second half of my day didn't go as well as the first. Your friends, Ginny Weasley, Longbottom, and Lovegood were caught trying to break into Snape's office for the sword. It wouldn't have been so bad if they had been caught by Snape, but they weren't. They were caught by the Carrows._

_They were given the punishment of having the Cruciatus on them. Unfortunately for them, I was one of the closest students at the time. Since I was forced to use the spell on my brethren over the summer under the direct eye of the Dark Lord, I am very proficient, which means that it hurt nearly as much as if the Carrows had administered it in my stead. The good news is that only Longbottom had to endure. Another bit of good news is that Snape came in after only the first round and lifted the punishment and gave them detention in the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid instead._

_Longbottom and I have seemed to have reached an accord and apparently Ginny Weasley had caught us in abandoned classroom three while I was going down on you that time. So, she is aware we have a thing. She doesn't know we are married. I doubt her occlumency shields are strong enough to give her any sort of information._

_The third and final participant in stealing the sword was the Lovegood girl. I definitely think that she should be in Gryffindor. She is one of the bravest people I have ever met. Other than you, of course, Sweetheart._

_How are you lot holding up?_

_Love,_

_Me_

Hermione closed her eyes and held the parchment to her face wishing she could drown in his scent forever. She didn't even hear Ron as he approached her, snatching the parchment out of her hands.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" Hermione growled and reached for the letter he had just ripped out of her hands. As he turned away, she caught the glittering light that reflected off the locket hanging around his neck.

He rolled his lips and sneered, skimming over her letter. "So, this is why you weren't interested in me,"

"Excuse me?" Hermione said flabbergasted.

"Last year after I ended things with Lavender. I wanted to ask you, but you were so offish. I thought you had a thing for Harry," Ron growled.

Harry froze,  _Quidditch Through the Ages_  open on his lap, and looked up in horror. Hermione wore a similar look of distress, wondering why he wanted to talk things over now. And it suddenly occurred to her that Ron was not in the know as Harry was. They had left Ron out of most of her explanations. He just seemed to accept it at the time and Hermione never thought to talk to him about it more in-depth.

"And then," he continued, "we were in Grimmauld Place and the two of you waited for me to fall asleep before talking about Malfoy and his slimy kiss at Bill's wedding. Sure, I pretended to be asleep, didn't want to miss out on your bonding time. I found out the girl I had fallen in love with had been sneaking around with a bloody Slytherin for over a year. And did he even treat you right? Did he fully respect you and your choices? No! He bloody cast a memory modification spell on you. Who does that? I would never have done that to you! So why? Why did you forgive him? And you bloody married the git! What am I supposed to do with my feelings now? We are on the hunt, hoping for this war to end and he gets to be the fucking hero at the end of the day. No one told him what we were doing or hunting, and he still bloody found out anyway! How is a bloke to compete with that?!"

"Well it's a little too late," Hermione said angrily. "You didn't say a word, not a single word of your interest. Not that I would have dated you. A good guy you may be, most of the time, but I was already in love with him!"

"I could have made you happy!"

"No, Ron, I don't think so! We always fight! Every single year!"

"And you don't fight with Malfoy?!" he yelled back.

"I am already his wife. There is no way I am discussing this any longer."

"Right, well, if you don't need me, then I am better off at school, protecting my sister!"

Harry jumped to his feet at this and grabbed Draco's note out of Ron's hand, devouring the whole in seconds. Hermione's cheeks flamed over the personal information it contained.

"Mate, Malfoy says she has detention with Hagrid, she will be just fine,"

"Just fine?" Ron's voice rose an octave. "Just because the mighty Harry Potter came out of the Forbidden Forest just fine doesn't mean it's not bloody dangerous. Things are different there, darker."

"Fine then, run back to your family. Go ahead. Join Ginny at school. Tell them you've recovered from the disease you said you had and just trounce off," Harry said equally furious now.

Hermione moved until she was standing in the center of the two boys and she knew something between them broke.

"Leave the Horcrux before you go," Harry said, face set in an angry, unforgiving rage and Ron wrenched the thing off and threw it at Hermione, not even flinching when the heavy metal hit her in the shoulder.

Stomping from the tent and with a loud crack, Ron disapparated. He was gone. He really left them.

Hermione stood looking at the tent flap for what seemed like hours, shocked more than she could ever say. Yes, they had their arguments. Yes, they went through periods of not talking to each other. They were both stubborn and passionate but always, always at the end of the day they had stuck together through the toughest fights. They could count on each other when things truly went bad. Perhaps that is what made this moment hurt so very much.

Once the light of the morning streamed through the changing leaves, Hermione had to admit to herself that no matter how much she wanted him to stride back through the flap and apologize, that was not going to happen.

Ron was gone.

With shaking hands Hermione pulled out a parchment and dipped her quill, poised to write Draco a letter of response. It had been so long since he sent her that letter, and so much had happened, that addressing the letter was almost difficult.

_Draco,_

_I am so sorry that you had to cast an unforgivable. Is Neville okay?_

_What a relief that you were able to destroy the Horcruxes. That leaves just one more Horcrux to destroy._

_Would it be possible for you to send through some food? Due to the increasing Dementor population roaming the towns, we are unable to procure any and I hate to admit my stock has run out. It has been several days since our last real meal._

_Ron left us._

_Love,_

_Me_

Thirty minutes later, the box glowed blue. Hermione lifted the lid and burst out in tears. A glass dish nearly as big as the box itself sat inside, filled to the brim with Sunday roast and Yorkshire puddings which were piled nearly to the lid, and potatoes and carrots filled in every crevice that the meat had left. There was so much, she doubted that they would be able to eat it all before it would go bad.


	19. Homecoming Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to CJRed who alpha read this story for me.
> 
> Updates every Thursday!

**Chapter Nineteen- Homecoming Part One**

The stormy weather outside accurately reflected the somber pall on the inside of Hogwarts. A storm was brewing in more ways than one. Every day more and more students were subjected to abuse that doubled as punishment by the Carrows. Draco saved as many as he could, but he couldn't be everywhere all at once. It was never enough. One man could only do so much.

Things finally came to a head three days before Christmas break. Jimmy Peaks, a Gryffindor, had sent a stunner across the Defense classroom and grazed Amycus's arm, singeing his teaching robes. The retaliation was swift and brutal.

Crabbe and Goyle were called in, pulled from afternoon transfiguration, to administer the Cruciatus- extra lessons that Amycus had said they needed. They were as dim and as brutal as their fathers, relishing in the pain that they caused. Jimmy Peaks was barely cognizant when they were through and a deeply unsatisfied roil continued among the student body. A revolt had begun.

Students from almost all of the houses pushed back, protecting their youngest members from the wands of brutal future Death Eaters. Many of those older students claimed punishments meant for the younger kids but many more were unable to be pulled from the situation fast enough.

Day by day, students began disappearing and Longbottom was starting to amass a significant number of followers. The Room was soon overflowing, and it was such a day in December when Longbottom braved being caught in the corridors to come and find Draco.

Draco was in abandoned classroom three, leaning back against a dusty desk, waiting on Longbottom for their weekly meeting.

"Evening," Longbottom said as he pressed a white square of linen to his split bottom lip.

"What happened?" Draco asked, gesturing to the blood.

Neville blotted his lip again and smirked. "Took Alecto down with a feet-tangling charm. Worked like a dream. The only stumbling block was that his spell hit me in the face on the way down. No big deal. I was able to get the kid out of the room and back to her Common room."

"Nice," Draco chuckled. That would have been something amusing to see.

Longbottom slid onto the desk next to his and they sat in silence for a moment.

"That passage has been made," Longbottom said. "We couldn't filch enough food the last week and the passage appeared an hour ago,"

Draco smiled – legit smiled. Longbottom was obviously uncomfortable with his unusual show of emotion, but Draco couldn't help it. That passageway meant that he would be reunited with Hermione, the first time in six months.

"I am going to have some people come through," Draco said.

"Who?" Longbottom asked seriously.

"It's a surprise! But I promise that you will be deliriously happy," Draco pushed away from the desk and walked to the door. "And, it will piss off the Carrows, a double win,"

"I'll trust you," Longbottom said with a sigh and stuffed the handkerchief deep in his robe pocket.

"Wise," Draco said. He stuck his head out of the door and looked both ways down the corridor before turning back and pinning Longbottom with his steel gaze. "Don't get caught,"

Draco slipped out without hearing Longbottom's response and wound through the corridors, heading steadily away from the Slytherin Common. It wasn't long before he was standing just outside of the Headmaster's office. He hesitated for just a moment, hoping that Snape hadn't been playing the long game on him this whole time. That terrifying fear was never far from his mind.

"Sparta," Draco whispered, and the gargoyle jumped aside, allowing Draco entrance to the Headmaster's office.

Snape was sitting at his desk, a glass tumbler held loosely in his fingertips, filled to the brim with amber liquid.

"Draco," Snape said in greeting. He didn't look up, in fact, had he not said anything, Draco wouldn't have known the man even knew he was there.

"The passageway is open. I will be bringing them in as soon as possible,"

"Hogsmeade will be a problem," Snape said.

"They will just have to make it through the danger," Phineas Nigellus Black said from his portrait. "We need the Potter boy here. The danger is minimal. They have faced worse."

Draco scowled but didn't say anything. He knew there was risk associated with bringing Hermione and Potter into Hogwarts.

"I will ask Aberforth to shelter them," Dumbledore said before vacating his portrait.

"Everything is going to go to shit, very quickly too. Once the Dark Lord learns that Potter is in the castle he will come with his army. They won't gain the castle right away. Minerva will stand with Potter and oust me from my Headmaster role. I'm sure of it. But you, you need to figure out how you are going to handle the battle. Where will you stand? No, don't say anything. Think about it. What it would mean… Where can you do the most damage? That is up to you."

After his speech, Snape drained his glass and stood to look out of the high window that overlooked the grounds. Draco studied Snape's back and was struck with the truth. Snape had no illusions that he was going to survive the war. In fact, it seemed as if he looked forward to his demise with a macabre sort of anticipation. Draco's stomach swirled sickly and he closed his eyes.

Snape was right. He had no time to consider Snape and his plans, he had to end this godforsaken war and protect his family, his wife, and herald in a new and better world. The only way to ensure that outcome was to maneuver carefully. Everyone had their part to play and he was no exception.

Draco left, leaving Snape alone to mull over his own answers to the very same questions he presented to Draco.

Where could he do the most damage? Where was the best place to stand?

He couldn't lie to himself. Every fiber of his being was shouting that he needed to be with his wife, to protect her, to watch her back in the coming fight. But his Slytherin brain was whirling with wisps of ideas, manipulations, positioning himself figuratively to stand at the top of the hill, an advantageous position above his enemies.

As much as he wanted to physically stand with Hermione, he knew he couldn't. He had to stay close to his 'master'. A failsafe in case something happened to Potter. Someone to finish off the bastard once his Horcruxes were all stripped away. Draco walked onto this path knowing it might cost him his life and he had already prepared for that. It was time to accept whatever fate he was dealt and continue walking on the narrow ridge he had carved for himself.

Soon enough, he found himself in his dorm standing in front of his creation, the mini-vanishing cabinet. Having taken a moment to hastily scrawl out a short note that described the passageway and how to get to it, he then retrieved the very note that Snape had sent him that day he had gone toe to toe with Amycus in the Great Hall. Then he rolled up his note with Snape's unopened scroll nestled in the center. Gently, he laid the parchment at the bottom of the box and closed the lid, a shaky exhale was the only indication of his nerves.

**HGHG**

Hermione sat in the center of the clearing right in front of the tent, cradling Draco's box in her lap. It had been weeks since Ron left. Weeks since she spoke more than a few words out loud. The locket nestled snugly against her breast and it grew warm as if a small animal, its heartbeat keeping tempo with hers. It fed on her insecurities, her fears. She knew that- expected it even- and yet was powerless to halt the increasingly depressed thoughts that took over.

They were no longer starving. Draco and the Hogwarts elves saw to that. But it wasn't sustenance that her body required. She had read a research paper once, written by Harry Harlow, about his experiments with monkeys in the 1930s. Physical touch, he claimed, was just as necessary to human survival as breathing, food, and water. Unequivocally she agreed with his theory.

In her whole entire life, she had never felt deprived of affection. But these previous two weeks felt like the last string holding her to sanity was fraying, snapping. Nightly, she wrapped her arms around herself and cried. Was there such a thing as being alone and yet being physically close to someone? Hermione knew that Harry was just as deprived as she. It was wearing them both down and they took small bits of comfort from each other. Hugs. A nonjudgmental ear.

Hermione learned more about Harry's horrible childhood and the hopes that he had once entertained when he found out that Sirius was his Godfather, then his freefall into near madness after Sirius died before any of those hopes could be realized. He learned more of her amazing childhood, of her relationship with Draco, and especially of when she obliviated her parents and her own swirling descent into grief. But most importantly, he listened with understanding when she called herself a hypocrite for being mad at Draco for casting a mind spell on her when she did so much worse to her own parents.

How could she punish Draco for something she had done? And for similar reasons too. Perhaps if he had repressed her memories out of maliciousness, she could lay the blame of it at his door. But she knew that his love for her and his desperation at the time left him little in the way of options. Harry was still in the camp of letting Draco suffer but he didn't see Draco that year the way she did. He didn't understand just how trapped Draco had been. Harry and Draco were a lot alike. Two different sides of the same coin. Both put into impossible circumstances. Both rose to meet the challenge. Both prepared to die for the cause.

The box on her lap began to glow and she pushed down her maudlin thoughts, allowing her happiness of just talking with Draco to pervade every emotion she was feeling. She reached in a drew out the rolled letter.

"Harry! Draco sent a letter!" She yelled over her shoulder and waited to open their only tie to the outside world until Harry was sitting next to her.

Harry swept her hair over one shoulder and lifted the Horcrux from around her neck, wrapping the gold chain around and around his hand. He planted both hands on the ground and put his weight back against them, nodding when he was settled.

Hermione unfurled the note and set the separate scroll in her lap.

_Evening love,_

_The time has come. The passageway into the school has been opened and is being maintained by Aberforth Dumbledore at the Hog's Head Inn. There is considerable danger in arriving at the village. The same things we talked about last time, Dementors, curfew at night, and a Death Eater patrol to name just a few. These things will have to be suffered through. Aberforth will give you sanctuary and will lead you through the passageway. Don't get caught. They will take you directly to the Dark Lord if the Dementors don't give you the kiss first.  
_

_Snape has sent you some instructions._

_Good Luck and I love you,_

_Me_

Harry grabbed the scroll from her lap and broke the black seal without so much as looking at it.

"What does it say?" Hermione asked.

"That Dumbledore wishes to talk to me in private as soon as I reach the castle and to bring a souvenir." His lips quirked and Hermione snorted. It seemed like Snape still didn't know everything about the mission. "He also said to prepare for war. You-Know-Who will know when we breach the castle wards if not sooner and that we will be bringing the battle to Hogwarts. If we make every step just right, we could end it."

"Then we should pack up and storm Hogsmeade," Hermione said.

"Tonight," Harry said grimly and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. They both stared off into the blackness of the night, wishing things hadn't gone so wrong with Ron. Wishing that this war had never happened. Wishing for a world in which children were not called to become soldiers.

"I love you, you know," Harry said seriously. "I've never had a real family before I came to Hogwarts and you have never once made me feel as if I wasn't an important part of your life. Thank you for being my friend, my sister, my comrade in arms."

Hermione turned and threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. They had been through so much over the years. There was nothing she wouldn't do for him. "I'm just following your lead,"

He dropped a kiss on top of her head in the same way her father had the day she had obliviated him. The air was sucked from her lungs like a punch to the gut for the reminder.

"Are you ready?"

She laughed breathlessly. "When have we ever been truly ready? We jump into things, we fight our way through it, we pick up the pieces after,"

He chuckled. "Sounds about right,"

He patted the top of her head and stood, beginning the arduous process of packing up the tent. Hermione shoved her box into the deep confines of her beaded bag and began tearing down their extensive wards. They worked side by side, silently, listening for any indication that they had unwanted company.

Once they were packed and under the cloak, Harry whispered, "Should we apparate a distance out of the village or say fuck it and just appear in the middle of town?"

"Six of one, half dozen of the other, don't you think?" She said. She slipped her hand into Harry's and with a twist, pulled them both into the compression of the void.

A high-pitched wail echoed around them the moment their bodies materialized in the town center. Hermione tugged Harry into movement, winding decisively through the town, a single-minded focus of the seedy pub where the DA had their very first meeting. They were nearly there when the cold depressive effluvium of Dementors pervaded the very air they breathed.

Suddenly, they stopped, their path wholly blocked by three hungry Dementors. Harry raised his wand and cast, "Expecto Patronum,"

A massive stag leaped from his wand tip, chasing away the dark beings. Next thing they knew, Abeforth was at his door, yelling to the hidden Death Eaters.

"Hurry," he whispered and gestured blindly to the invisible duo. And they moved as if Voldemort himself were on their arses. Time was of the essence.

They had just cleared the threshold when the first Death Eater rounded the corner. Blood was pumping through her head and she couldn't make out what the argument was about, but she figured that Abeforth was protecting them. They stood as still under the cloak as possible and waited, Harry's arm around her waist was the only comfort she could feel.

**HGHG**

Draco stood next to abandoned classroom three and waited. In a roundabout way, he had contacted Longbottom, requesting entrance to the Room that night. His nerves were jittery, and he couldn't stop his fingers drumming against the stone.

Finally, a door appeared opposite of him and Longbottom pushed the heavy portal open before waving him in, looking both ways as he did so.

Draco pushed off the wall and entered the domain of Potter's resistance. It was amazing. Hammocks hung all around the room, grouped by house colors. Bathrooms opened at the other end of the room.

The gentle hum of talking faded away as he stepped through and he met accusing angry eyes at every turn. He tried to ignore them. After all, he was there for Hermione, not to be accepted by their lot.

"It's this way," Longbottom said as he led Draco through the crowd.

A portrait sat empty on the far wall, but it seemed to be where Longbottom was indicating.

"This is it?" Draco asked.

"Yeah, Mate," Longbottom smacked him on the shoulder in a friendly fashion which sent off shocked titters through the room. Something else that he ignored.

"Have you heard anything?" Draco asked, nervously tapping his fingers against his thigh.

"Not yet,"

Suddenly the portrait changed. A young blond girl was coming closer as if from a long way off.

"Must be time," Longbottom said rubbing his hands together.

Draco's heart was pounding and sweat beaded over his upper lip. He raised a shaking hand to his lips and breathed faster, the anticipation killing him.

As the girl approached, Longbottom stepped through the widening passage to follow the beckoning girl. He turned to Draco and muttered, "wait here."

The minutes felt like hours, but it wasn't long before Longbottom stepped through with Potter in tow.

The room erupted in excitement and Harry brought Draco into a one-armed hug, whispering in his ear, "Hurt her again and I will kill you and take her for myself,"

"Like hell, you will," Draco growled. "I will cherish her."

"Good." Harry released Draco and moved onto greeting the masses.

Draco was struck dumb the moment that he saw her. She was beautiful, gorgeous and for a minute he struggled to remember how to breathe. Then he was moving, and she was too, wrapping each other in their arms. When he finally had her exactly where she belonged, she laughed uninhibitedly, clearly just as elated as he was that they were together again.

His mouth crashed against hers and he couldn't breathe properly for the excitement. Adrenaline pulsed through his veins and he swore that he could have lifted a Thestral one-handed, he was so affected. She tasted so much better than she had in his dreams. Her lavender scent hit him like a ton of bricks, and he teased and prodded his tongue against the seam of her lips. He needed her near to him like he needed sustenance, like water, like fucking air. She opened for him eagerly, slipping her own tongue alongside his, seeking the inside of his mouth to relearn the taste of him too.

Bombardas could have been aimed at his back and he wouldn't have noticed. He sucked on her plump lower lip and traced the fleshy perimeter. How could he have thought last year that one kiss could ever be enough?

Hermione pulled back enough to breathe, panting with the effort, her lips reddened and swollen from his kisses.

"I love you," Hermione said, and looked up at him with her big doe eyes so full of faith and tenderness. Want and need danced there, too, and he felt like the luckiest man in the entire world.

"I love you too, Sweetheart." He responded. At her dazed and happy expression, he smirked as he grabbed her hand, unintentionally flashing the five-carat diamond to the room. Gasps flooded the space and for the first time since Hermione flung herself into his arms, he remembered that they had an audience.

"What is that?" Seamus asked pointing in shock to the ring that graced Hermione's finger.

"Did you have to pick something so large?" Hermione grumbled to Draco in a muted voice. Harry was smiling and watched as she began fielding questions, but it was pretty obvious they were married or at least engaged.

"Large?" He laughed. "This is modest for a Malfoy. And, it was symbolic."

"How,"

"It was the very first thing that came through the Vanishing Cabinet whole and it was then I began to hope that I might survive,"

"Draco Malfoy, a romanticist, who would have guessed," She said with a mischievous smile, unintentionally ignoring the continued questions of her friends.

Pulling her back into his arms, he rested his chin on top of her head, still struggling to get himself under control. Hermione was in his arms. Finally. And there was nothing,  _nothing_ , that could top that feeling in the whole entire world.

"Is this why you have been meeting with Malfoy all this time?" Lavender demanded of Longbottom while searching the space behind Hermione for a familiar redhead. Hermione looked at Draco in askance, and both Draco and Longbottom were nodding as if this detail wasn't very important or secret. Apparently, they were something decently close to being called friends.

"Where  _is_  Ron?" Ginny asked Harry quietly.

Harry sighed and looked away. "He left us,"

"WHAT!" Ginny yelled furiously.

"Ginny, calm down," Hermione said from the safety of Draco's arms. "we've been through some pretty tough stuff."

"So have we, but you don't see any one of us bailing,"

"And Malfoy is just forgiven for everything, just like that?" Lavender drew all of their attention again, focusing her anger and disappointment about Ron on the easiest target in the room. Draco Malfoy.

"Draco has done more for us in this war than anyone else. Including me. Including Dumbledore. He has more than earned his place among us." Harry said heatedly. He went on to answer more questions, drawing the attention off of Draco.

Draco could feel the heat rise in his face, making him blush. He looked down at Hermione when she snorted softly in amusement and met his eyes. His face softened at the delight he found there. With one hand on the back of his neck, Hermione pulled his face closer to hers so that she could caress his lips with hers. It was addictive, the way she looked at him as if she needed him, wanted him, loved him. He could have battled the whole world, he felt so powerful under her touch.

His hands cradled her slim hips and pulled her body closer so that she could feel exactly what she did to him. Extracting the soft little pants from her mouth was a labor of love and he swore to himself that he would someday spend endless days exploring her and finding out what other sounds she would make.

"I need to see Snape," Harry interrupted, his smile wasn't so wide that his sparkling teeth rivaled Theo's, but he kept his repulsed grimace locked away behind something similar. To show the room his support for Hermione and Draco, even if he did think that Draco needed a swift kick to the arse. "Then we should prepare. If You-Know-Who doesn't already know that I am in the castle, he will soon. I wish we had the option of finding a more advantageous battleground. But it seems that Hogwarts is where it all began and where it will all end. One way or another,"

A new wave of excitement rose from the Room's occupants and Harry pulled out the Master coin and gave it to Ginny who had begun transferring the message about the final battle to anyone who had an attached coin.

"Hermione," Draco said.

"Hmm?"

"I have to join the battle on the Death Eater's side,"

"Why?"

"We need people that can get really close to that bastard. I am in a position to do that,"

"He will kill you if he finds out,"

"I could have been killed so many times over this last year."

"And it terrified me!"

He chuckled. "Someone still needs to be close enough to kill Nagini,"

And though he assumed their conversation was fairly private, the room erupted in suggestions. Longbottom looked thoughtful and Harry looked grim.

"It won't be easy," Harry said to Draco.

"When has anything been easy?" Draco snorted and smirked, including a nod to Potter as if they were friends. They weren't, but they were no longer enemies either. Battling together with the Horcruxes gave them an understanding, and Draco was sure it had nothing to do with the notes they had passed via Hermione through the cabinet.

"True,"

"I'll take you to Snape. Other than the people in this room, no one knows that my allegiances have changed,"

"What should I do?" Hermione asked with a smile.

"I'm taking you with me," A very sexy thought popped up in his mind. He turned to her and lowered his voice, not just in volume but in huskiness and register.

Hermione smirked and looked at him coyly. "Where are we going?"

A devilish smile took over and he moved closer before saying, "my bed,"

"Be serious," Hermione muttered and smacked his shoulder, turning beet red. Draco was smiling as if he were the cat that got the cream, and Potter just looked ill.

Harry pulled Hermione out of Draco's arms and tucked her under his own while looking directly at Draco with a huge smirk on his face.

Draco closed his eyes, gathering as much patience as he could, before opening his eyes once more. Where the two had been standing moments before was nothing but a flawless wall that stood unblemished behind them.

"Hermione?" Draco asked curiously. He caught sight of a waving hand before it disappeared right before his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose and said, "Is that a fucking invisibility cloak?"

"Maybe…" she murmured.

Draco nodded with a perverse sort of humor in realization and ran his hand through his hair. All of those years when Potter got away with so much shit... Of course, he had a fucking invisibility cloak. The school and professors had bent backward in an effort to accommodate Potter. Now he knew why the berk never got caught. Fucker.

Gritting his teeth, he walked to the door, yanked it open with a bit more vigor than was necessary, and stuck his head out. One never knew where the Room was going to drop them, and he wanted to make sure neither of the Carrows were in sight before unleashing his wife and Potter on the castle. It must have been providence because when he looked out of the door, the Headmaster's office stood opposite. Even the castle adored Potter, Draco thought unreasonably.

He held the door open until he felt Hermione's fingers dance over his side, then he made sure to close the heavy wood firmly to protect those still inside. When the door disappeared, he approached the griffin that protected the entrance to the Headmaster's office.

"Sparta," he whispered before the statue sprang to life and moved aside, letting the invisible duo pass before following them into the room.

Snape's black eyes pinned on him accusingly before his sharp eyes swept the air immediately to his right, focusing on something that Draco couldn't see. When the door was firmly closed, Potter let the cloak slide off of Hermione and himself, stepping closer to Snape's desk with hard unforgiving eyes.

"Potter," Snape said before flicking his inscrutable gaze to Hermione, "Mrs. Malfoy,"

Hermione blushed and nodded, looking away. Draco watched her with a smirk, proud and amused. The way his whole body tingled when someone called her by his name…

"Hello, Harry," Dumbledore said quietly from his frame. He was standing, twinkling at all the people that graced the room.

"Dumbledore," Harry greeted. He met and held the gaze and it was clear that Harry's wistful look had more to do with Dumbledore being his last and greatest protector to fall. "Didn't Snape kill you?"

"Yes, but Harry, I was already dying. With my death, we were able to solidify Professor Snape's apparent loyalties which protected a great many students on both sides of the war. Without Severus, I doubt you would have made it back into Hogwarts unscathed."

Snape sat with a huff behind his desk, apparently unamused to be talked about while still in the room.

"Everything alright, Severus?" Dumbledore asked with great amusement.

"Oh no, go on and discuss me as if I am not here. Doesn't bother me at all," Snape said petulantly. Draco rolled his eyes at Hermione and she struggled to hide her chuckle by biting her lips.

Harry chuckled lightly but it was colored by stress and it faded quickly. He turned his attention to Dumbledore's portrait. "Does Snape know?"

"No," Dumbledore said, dropping the twinkle.

"Perhaps it's time," Draco said, gaze cutting over to his godfather. Snape nodded at him. Slytherin solidarity or whatever.

Hermione thread her fingers with his and Draco couldn't stop the thumping of his heart in his chest, nor could he stop his rising excitement. Everything was coming to a head and one way or another, the war would be over soon.

"I agree," Harry said with a nod.

Dumbledore sighed. "That means that if you fail in this battle, that will be it. There will be no second chance. All of our carefully laid plans would be exposed. There is no going back."

"If Snape wanted to betray us, he could have at any time," Harry said, meeting Draco's eyes over Hermione's nodding head. The man himself snorted rather unbecomingly but held his own council.

"Do what you must," Dumbledore said soberly.

Hermione pulled Draco to one of the two chairs facing Snape's desk and pushed him into one, before perching on his thigh. Harry looked a little green at the display but sat in the vacant chair next to them.

Draco slid his hand over Hermione's waist and pulled her a bit closer.

With the flurry of sudden activity, Harry pulled the locket over his head and deposited the jewelry on top of Snape's desk. "This is just one of the many things we have been searching for. One of You-Know-Who's Horcruxes,"

Snape closed his eyes and softly said, "Horcruxes, of course."

"Draco found and destroyed two. Two were destroyed before Dumbledore's death. Two are left. One of them is this locket,"

"Three," Victus Malfoy said from his frame.

"What?" Hermione said. Though the only one to voice her horror, the two boys looked in complete agreement with the sentiment.

Victus continued. "The night he gave you that scar, Potter, he split his soul. Not intentionally, I suppose. That doesn't change the fact that he had. Ever wondered why you could talk to snakes? Or why his mind could never be closed completely to you? Though I highly doubt he suspects."

Dumbledore cut in. "This makes things more complicated. How to destroy a Horcrux without destroying the vessel,"

"It can't be done," Draco cut in. "The vessel must be damaged beyond repair. There are no other ways to kill a Horcrux."

"Normally, yes, but we are talking about Tom and Harry. Their connection has always pushed the boundaries of known magic and this time is no different. Harry's mother gave her life for Harry's, giving him strong impenetrable protection from Tom for the whole of his life. Tom, being the intelligent wizard that he is, found a loophole. When he resurrected, he used Harry's blood to do it. This means that as long as Lily's sacrifice flows through the living, Harry cannot die by his hand."

"Are you saying that anyone else  _except_  the Dark Lord could kill Potter?" Draco asked before breaking out into a loud laugh. "It's ironic," he said between uncontrollable laughter. "No one else was allowed to kill Potter. And all along, he has been keeping him safer than he could ever realize."

Snape was just as amused as Draco was. Hermione reached across the divide and tangled her fingers with Harry's. Both sober and horrified.

Draco reached across the space and clapped Potter on the shoulder, ignoring the fact that Potter was holding his wife's hand.

"It's true," Dumbledore said. "The humor is not lost on me. However, that still means that we have to figure out a way to separate Harry from the Horcrux,"

Draco sobered up immediately and looked at the back of Hermione's shirt in shame. Laughing at a time like this…

"It can't be done," Harry said slowly. "I have to die."

"Maybe not," Snape said, giving Dumbledore's portrait major side-eye. A frown marred the smooth skin between his eyes. "Not if the Dark Lord is the one to do it,"

Dumbledore nodded once.

Snape rolled his eyes and entreated the deities for patience. "I think he has to kill you but if he is the one to cast the spell, I don't think you will die."

Harry looked at Snape and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Why do I feel a but coming?"

"I think you could choose to die if you want in that moment. I can't be sure of course."

"Just spit it out for Merlin's sake," Harry said with a great deal of venom. For a moment Snape blinked. It was odd to hear his own frustrations spat back out at him.

Snape narrowed his eyes and his upper lip curled. "If you did die, at his hand, knowingly and willingly to save everyone, wouldn't you be able to gift the same protection that Lily gave to you to everyone you wish to protect?"

Harry sat back a considering look in his eye. "That is a good point,"

"No!" Hermione said. "We need you alive to finish him off,"

"Malfoy could do it. In fact, he might be better suited to kill the bastard," Harry said in a considering voice.

"I can't let you die," she said raggedly.

"You can't stop me, Hermione. We have lost so much. The world, the whole world, stands to lose so much more if he isn't stopped. You know more than just about anyone what would happen if we lose this final battle." Hermione moved to interrupt but Harry held up his hand. "In the event of a bizarre twist of fate that we lose, this will enable the resistance to continue the fight. Perhaps it will be what finally allows us to win,"

"Harry," She said, tears thickening her voice.

"Sweetheart," Draco said in a low voice. "You can't make Potter's choices for him."

"He is the last of my family," she said through the tears that trailed down her cheeks.

"What am I, dragon dung?" Draco said with a soft smile.

"No. You are my husband. My family. But he is my brother,"

"You have parents. I would have heard if they had been killed."

"I don't," she said before taking a shuddering breath. "I obliviated them in our sixth year."

"When?" Draco demanded in a hard voice.

"Last Christmas," she whispered.

"The drawings on the train window. I didn't realize," Draco said. It felt as if a hippogriff was sitting on his chest.

"You saw that?" Hermione asked, confusion laced with sorrow.

"We will talk about it later," He mumbled, wishing that the rising blush didn't stain his cheeks as she watched him with narrowing eyes.

"Oh my God," Hermione said in mortification. "Yes. A conversation for later."

"Well if that is settled," Snape said. "can we get back to the final battle? You know, the one where all of our lives are on the line."

"I don't mind a bit of comedy before I die," Harry Potter said with a grin. But his amusement quickly dissipated in the face of Hermione's fury. Draco couldn't help the smirk that he tossed at Potter while Hermione's focus was elsewhere.

Potter glared at him, despite Hermione's finger in his face, her lecture voice already well in place.

"Hate to break up this little love triangle," Snape said sternly. "But I have better things to do than watch it."

"Sorry Professor," Hermione mumbled apologetically and both Draco and Potter were united in their eye roll.

"First we need to destroy this," Snape waved his hand over the locket. "Where is the second one?"

"Nagini is the second one," Hermione said.

"Fucking snake," Snape muttered. Everyone nodded their agreement. "I will take care of her."

"Where is the sword, Draco?" Hermione asked. Draco nodded toward Snape.

Snape stood and swung Dumbledore's portrait open and reached into the hidden vault behind it. When he withdrew his arm, he held the stunning goblin wrought sword of Gryffindor.

"Hermione, want to do the honors?" Harry asked.

"Yes," she said fiercely, jumping off of Draco's lap, and reached for the sword.

"Wait," Draco said. "I had very little physical contact with the ones I destroyed, and they still put up a decent fight. You have been wearing this one against your skin. No matter what it says to you, ignore it. Even if the voice in your head is your parents, me, or even Potter or Weasley. Remember that it is not real, that I love you, and nothing it says will change anything for me."

Hermione nodded and took the sword from Snape who watched with detached curiosity. He was clearly occluding. Draco nodded in approval and did the same. It wouldn't benefit anyone if they lost their restraint.

"Ready?" Potter asked Hermione.

"As ready as I will ever be," she muttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Endnotes:
> 
> Finally, Hermione and Draco are reunited. Was it everything you all were hoping for? Yes? No? Not steamy enough? If that is so, you will really enjoy next week!
> 
> Harry Harlow did indeed experiment on Monkeys in the 1930s. To put it simply, he wanted to see what would happen if he put baby monkeys in seclusion. There is a video on YouTube about it. If you watch it, be prepared for the disturbed. It was a horrendous ethical breach against any living being. Watching it is horrifying and heart-wrenching.


	20. Homecoming Part Two

**Chapter Twenty- Homecoming Part Two**

Hermione readjusted her grip on the hilt of the sword and took a deep breath before hitching the heavy steel over her shoulder. Harry, who stood next to her, had begun hissing- speaking in Parseltongue.

When the last hissing breath left his lips, the locket popped open, and Hermione stepped closer into swinging distance. Her mother, more beautiful and terrible than she had ever been in real life, formed in the mist that had leaked out of the Horcrux the moment Harry opened it.

" _How could you obliviate your own parents. Did you hate us so much? Did you think we would ever forgive you?" Hermione's pseudo-mother screeched; her fury and hate were directed fully on the daughter she once had._

"No!" Hermione moaned and shook her head, squeezing her eyes tight against the vision of her mother that she had created herself months ago. Fear had created the vision, fed by the manipulative evil of the Horcrux making her guilt grow by leaps and bounds. Seeing her mother as an illusion that was so startlingly close to reality was difficult and Hermione struggled to remember that this specter wasn't her mother's thoughts or feelings at all.

"Fight it, Love," Draco's voice floated to her from just behind her right shoulder.

"You can do this, Hermione," Harry muttered from behind her other shoulder.

With a horrible gasp, the vision of Hermione's mother dissolved in a puff of swirling smoke while the mist swirled and solidified once more into Draco. But not Draco as she knew him now, though he looked identical. This Draco wore the old sneer that he used to wear around her in their younger years. The one that curled his lips away from his teeth in disgust; his eyes bright and taunting. The mocking slur, Mudblood, dripping from his lips.

That final vision was too much to bear. They had been through so much. He had fought through the hand that he had been dealt and loved her, despite the odds against them. Despite his mentality and upbringing. Despite the million reasons why they could not be together. She couldn't bear it if he turned back into this version. She released a dry sob and swung the sword with her entire might. The locket screamed as if the blow had parted flesh instead of metal. Its death throes became more and more elaborate the longer its onyx life's blood pooled onto the stacks of parchment that littered Snape's desk.

Finally, the voice of the Horcrux that fed upon their fears for months was silent and Hermione dropped the sword with a muted clang on the Headmaster's desk. Then she twisted around and buried her face into Draco's chest. He wound his arms around her shoulder and waist holding her tightly, all the while murmuring encouragement in her ear.

"You wonderful, brilliant woman. I am so proud of you, Sweetheart. There is absolutely nothing you can't do,"

Hermione clutched at his robes on his chest, fisting them as she tried to get her shaking body under control. Behind her, she could hear someone move the mangled locket, its chain dragging across the wood top.

"Evanesco," Snape murmured, and Hermione assumed he was trying to clean the liquid that bled from the locket the moment the sword was riven through the metal encasement.

"How long do you think we have until Tom gets here?" Harry asked Snape.

"Not long once I summon him."

"Then do it. It's time,"

"The young need to be evacuated," Snape said grimly.

"We will take care of that," Harry said.

"Minerva will chase me from the school."

"Obviously," Harry said mimicking Snape's own drawl.

"I will need to leave the castle when Snape does," Draco said, and Hermione could hear the soothing rumble against her cheek. He was caressing her face as she calmed. Then he leaned in so that his mouth was right next to her ear. "I was a mess after I destroyed the two that I found, too."

"Why?" Harry asked Draco, a thoughtful look on his face. "I have a better idea."

"No offense Potter, but I don't trust your ideas as far as I can throw them," Draco snarked.

"What were you thinking?" Hermione turned her face to Harry curiously.

"Once Snape is chased out what happens to the wards?"

"They fall?"

"Or I will take them down because I am bid to," Snape said. "Most likely the remaining professors will raise new wards to prevent me from reentering the castle."

"The Shrieking Shack is inside the wards?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Snape said slowly, pursing his lips.

"What if we leave it out when the professors raise the next set?"

"I doubt you will talk Professor McGonagall into allowing that sort of weakness. There is a tunnel that goes inside the castle wards unless you have forgotten that little detail,"

"It's not like he could send in his entire army that way. Plus, if we are aware of the weakness, we can plan for it. Someone could pick off the Death Eaters that he sends through one by one at a safe distance from the Whomping Willow."

"That's not a bad idea," Snape said grudgingly.

"What's the point of that though? It doesn't give your side much of an advantage," Draco argued.

"Unless that is where Tom holds court," Hermione said, comprehension lighting up her face.

"Because the Order would then know exactly where the Dark Lord was at all times," Draco said.

"Exactly," Harry said grinning.

"Who is going to be the bearer of this news," Snape asked grimly.

"I will," Draco said. "If you tell him, he will suspect you. After being unceremoniously tossed out on your ear, you shouldn't know anything. I can leave after you, claim that I heard them talking about it, tell him that would be a point of power to claim it. That Potter intends to use it to bring in more Order members,"

"How would I do that?" Harry asked.

"Apparition," Snape and Hermione said at the same time.

"Do you think you can pull it off without Tom suspecting?" Harry asked Draco.

Draco snorted.

"Potter," Snape said brutally. "He is the only person, other than myself, capable of occluding against the Dark Lord."

"If I die, it won't be because I wasn't good enough at keeping my thoughts hidden," Draco said grimly.

"You are right. One from our side could get you," Harry said.

"I can handle myself," Draco said.

Hermione pushed out of Draco's arms and brushed the tears off her face. "Every single one of us in this room is facing extreme danger, no matter where we place ourselves on the battlefield. To end this war, we need to take risks. As much as I hate it, Draco is right. Both Draco and Professor Snape need to stand with You-Know-Who. And we need to make sure you stand in front of him to die. Well, not permanently," she eyed Harry sternly.

"And you?" Harry demanded.

"I will be on the front lines. That is where I will be needed the most so that when Snape makes his move and kills Nagini, we can converge on our enemy and end this."

"Don't forget the Snake can only be killed with the sword or Fiendfyre," Harry muttered to Snape.

"Fucking hell," Snape sneered. "This isn't my first mission. I'm more worried you will fuck this all up, Potter,"

"I'm not the one who the Order thinks is a murdering traitor. So, excuse me if I want to be clear on how to kill the damn thing. It is, after all, the only thing I've been researching for months!" Harry flung back.

"Enough," Hermione said sternly. "Also, we can't start evacuating until Snape calls for You-Know-Who. That would tip him off that Snape may not be as loyal as he thought and he will never get close enough to Nagini to do anything,"

"Draco go find McGonagall and bring her here. We can talk with her," Snape said with a grimace, recognizing Hermione's logic.

"No," Harry said. "Her fury has to look real! If we are going to protect your placement among the Death Eaters, we will do it completely, since we have already sacrificed so much to secure it." Hermione nodded in agreement.

"The Order has already been summoned," Hermione said. "We won't be able to hide that many people coming in through the Hog's Head for long."

"It would be folly to call him before taking out the Carrows," Snape said.

"Alright, then. You and Draco stay here, and Hermione and I will take them down." Harry replied.

"No," Draco protested. "I am expected to walk the halls. Known to be difficult and powerful. I can do it. I should do it,"

"And what? Take out both without alerting the other?" Harry said sarcastically.

"It's you and me then," Draco said to Harry.

"And me," Hermione said. "There is no way I am sitting here with Professor Snape – no offense Professor- to wait while you two, who can barely get along, take down the two Death Eaters in the castle."

"What are you suggesting then?" Harry asked Hermione.

"Three roaming the castle for them is better than two,"

"Yes, I can see it now, two of the most hunted people roaming the halls of an unfriendly Hogwarts. Surely nothing will go wrong with that plan," Draco snarked.

Hermione snorted. "What is your plan then?"

"Someone needs to go back to the Room. Your Order members need instructions and a plan. They have been summoned and someone who knows what is going on needs to be there to direct them," Draco said. "Out of the two of you, I think Potter is more suited to helping me find the Carrows."

"Why? I am just as competent as he is at dueling. Plus, those coming in will want to see Harry,"

"Okay," Draco said slowly before turning to Harry. "When people arrive, what will you have them do?"

"Err," Harry said awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck. "We should… um,"

"See," Draco cut him off. "He has no damn clue what to do next with a leadership role. What would you do with the Order members when they arrive, Hermione?"

Hermione bowed her head, already grudgingly acceding him the victory. "I would start by talking about who we attack first, how to defend, where the figurative high ground is,"

"Exactly. Go to the room. Be the general they need."

"They want Harry, not me,"

"For morale maybe, but no one would doubt any plan you came up with,"

"Senior Order members will take over any planning,"

"And you will be right there with them,"

"Fine. I will go to the room,"

"Potter will meet you back there when we are done with the Carrows. Then Professor McGonagall will need to oust the Headmaster,"

"We will need to summon the students to the Great Hall to evacuate quickly after a headcount is taken," Hermione said.

Snape leaned against his desk, a finger tapping his chin. "Suppose I summon the students to the Great Hall under the pretense of searching the castle for Potter. It can be done right after I summon the Dark Lord,"

"Is that where you intend on being when you are thrown out of Hogwarts? In front of every student?" Draco asked, horrified.

"Maybe you should wait for Professor McGonagall in your office while the students file to the Great Hall," Hermione said. "This way it is just you and her,"

"Witnesses are better,"

"Even if they all hate you?" Harry said.

"It will look authentic that way,"

"Sure, but not everything has to be dramatic. Don't you want to be pardoned when this is over?" Harry asked.

"What does my exoneration have to do with being liked?"

"It will make proving your innocence that much easier if they don't hate you,"

"It is already much too late for that. Plus, theatrics is something that the Dark Lord understands. Its something both he and Dumbledore had in common," Snape said.

"That is the unfortunate truth," Dumbledore muttered from his frame.

"Do what you want," Harry said, handing Hermione the cloak.

"No," she said. "You need it more. I can use a disillusionment spell,"

"Really?" Snape asked dubiously.

"Really." She confirmed.

"Actually, she is quite good at them. Not good enough to fool me nor you, Severus. But neither of the Carrows will see her." Dumbledore said.

"I will wait here. Let me know when they are down, and I will summon  _him_." Snape said.

Snape sat down heavily in his chair and watched them file out. Hermione tore her gaze away only when Draco tugged on her hand to get her moving.

Once they were out in the hallway, Draco ran his fingers down Hermione's spine and watched her like a hawk, an anticipatory gleam in his eye.

"Give us a minute, will you?" Draco threw over his shoulder at Harry. Hermione couldn't help the butterflies that were taking up residence in her stomach, the fluttering anticipation of what he planned to do.

Harry, now unnoticed, disappeared down the hall and out of sight.

"If this is the last chance that I have to hold you in my arms, I need to do it properly," He murmured, pulling her into his arms and backing up into the nearest alcove that would afford them some privacy.

Hermione brought her hands up and gently smoothed her palms over his chest, marveling in the way his muscles rippled delightfully under her fingers. Hungrily, she looked up at him, knowing for a fact that his heart was pounding just as hard as hers.

"Now," he said hitching his smirk on his lips, "say it,"

His breath caressed her neck and she felt a sinful longing settle in her stomach. For so long she had missed this, him, the intimacy they shared before everything went to pot.

"Say what?" she asked dazedly, still focused more on the way his body felt under her fingers.

"You know what," he growled playfully, twirling them around until it was her back pressed against the stone wall, deep in their hiding spot. "You said you wish you could say it in person. Now you can,"

"Oh," she said with a breathy little laugh, trying to ignore the way his scent clung to his clothes, wrapping her tightly in its mesmerizing cocoon.

"Oh?" he repeated. He rolled his bottom lip between his teeth and placed his palm flat against the wall near her ear.

"I love you, Draco Malfoy,"

She watched his face go blank, but it wasn't the occluding, hide-the-feels, blank. She couldn't explain it properly but she thought it might be shock.

"I never thought that you would actually say it," he whispered.

Hermione slid her hands over his hips and while he was otherwise occupied, spun them around once again. This time Draco's back was flush against the wall.

Hermione put her hand on the wall behind him, the same way he had done to her, while the other hand wove through his hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer until she could feel his breath on her mouth.

"If you are going to box in a girl with your arms, you better be prepared to follow through," she said before taking his lips.

He immediately groaned and slid his hands from her hips around to her rear, cupping the generous curve or her arse with enthusiasm. Then with another groan, he pulled her hips to his, grinding against the fly of her jeans. Hermione could feel his bulging erection despite the layers between them and her own body heated in excitement. The need to be with him was nearly overpowering.

"Take off the jumper, Love. Let me feel you," he murmured huskily.

With a shaky exhale, Hermione crossed her arms and peeled layer by layer off until she was standing before him in her bra and jeans, all scars out in the open. The way he watched her fingers move was intoxicating. It was as if he was dying for every last inch of skin to be shown to him, and he might well die either from happiness or anticipation.

"God, you are beautiful," he said, eyes roving over her curves and scars.

She laughed. "Not as beautiful as you. Now, take it off,"

His beatific smile was back. The one she had grown to love. His soul was bared for her, his emotions open, his happiness shining through. Her heart skipped a beat, then he unclasped his robe and let it fall to the floor, showing her the white button-up which was rolled to the elbow and his grey trousers that were severely tented.

Unbuttoning his shirt was a labor in patience as Hermione watched his fingers with just as much fixation as he had with hers. The muscles of his body were lean, wiry, a coiled bank of power that was only marred by the thick pink rope of scarring that ran from his shoulder to his hip. Lightly, Hermione ran a single fingertip over the mark, enjoying the way he shivered from her touch.

Draco shrugged out of the shirt and let it fall to the floor. Then, Hermione leaned in and dropped feather-light kisses over every inch of the nearly healed wound. Near the end of the silvery rope of scar tissue, when her lips met his hip bone and she was on her knees, she reached up to unfasten the placket of his trousers. His hand stopped her.

"You don't have to do that," he whispered.

"You said it yourself, if this is to be our last moment, then I want it all. I do not want to be a virgin widow if something happens to you. I want you to make me yours. Right here. Right now."

"If you put your lips on my cock, Sweetheart, I doubt I will last past your lovely lips,"

"I have faith in your refractory period,"

A burst of laughter left his unwilling lips and let his head fall back with a thunk against the wall, his eyes rolled to the back of his head as her lips wrapped around the head of his weeping cock.

His groan was loud, and his hands lightly tangled in the hair on the crown of her head. Unable to help himself, he instinctually flexed so that the friction would rise, and he would go deeper in her mouth. Despite this, he struggled to stay still and at her mercy, she could feel the muscles in his thighs clench as he tried to hold himself back. Hermione never had to wonder if he liked it, not for one second. It was very obvious that he did, despite her lack of experience. Reading about such a thing gave her enthusiasm for the act and while she theoretically knew what to do, this was the first time she had ever done this with anyone.

"So fucking talented," he murmured, struggling not to explode right then and there. After another few passes, she could feel him grow bigger in her mouth. That is when he pulled her off and pressed her against the wall. His hands were all over the place and he struggled to get her jeans off of her. She stopped his struggles and took over, pushing her jeans down her legs, her knickers right along with them. Meanwhile, Draco had given himself the job of divesting her of her bra and though he struggled for a moment, that too was unhooked and dropped on the floor.

Once she was naked and he had kicked off his own trousers, Draco reached for her, running his fingers lightly over her mons. He parted the wet flesh with ease, two of his fingers teasing her clit that was so engorged, begging for his attention.

Dipping his fingers into her pussy, he retreated to circle her clit. He did that several times until Hermione thought she was going mad. She was seriously on the verge of taking charge when he stepped close, hooking one of her legs with his hand and wrapped it around his hip. Hermione dug her heel into the dip right above his arse but wasn't prepared for the zing of pleasure when he fisted his cock, rubbing the tip up and down her slit before directing his hardened length into her needy quim.

Slowly, so slowly he pressed into her, stretching her. Hermione winced for a moment, but once he was fully seated inside of her, she was fine. Having her virginity taken wasn't nearly as painful as all the stories led her to believe.

Hermione waited with near impatience while they stood there unmoving. She needed him to move, damn it! Then she tightened around him, luxuriating in the feeling of fullness, of wonderful completeness, of the overwhelming feelings of love and knowing one hundred percent just how much she was wanted.

"Stop moving," Draco said, his voice was strained, and it sounded almost as if he were in pain.

"Are you okay?" she whispered.

"If you don't stop squeezing your cunt around my cock, I am not going to last long," he growled, teeth gritted.

So, with that warning in mind, Hermione squeezed him again, even wetter than before.

Draco released a strangled groan and pulled out of her, so far that she thought he was going to leave. But just as his tip met her labia, he pushed back in. Harder. Faster.

Her head hit the stone wall behind her, but she couldn't care less. The sensations that he was pulling out of her, just by thrusting, were incredible and she couldn't focus on anything else. His tempo was steady, body moving in time to an ancient beat.

"Oh, yes! Draco! God…" She murmured, holding his shoulders for dear life.

"Come for me, Sweetheart," His deep voice demanded, strained.

As if her pleasure was held by his word alone, she crested the wave, stars exploding behind her eyelids. The pleasure was all-consuming, so full of Draco and what he had done to her body. His scent. His touch. His devotion. Merlin, but she loved this man.

"Fucking incredible," Draco said through tightly clenched teeth. The tendon on the side of his neck was taut and pulsating. His rhythm faltered and suddenly he was still, his lips pressed against the cradle of her neck. He shuddered under her fingers as hot spurts of his release coated her inner walls. Then they were both panting and holding each other and murmuring their love.

They stayed like that for only a few more moments then the weight of the realities of the war crashed down around them.

"Don't die," she said with a smile as she redressed.

"I wouldn't dream of denying you, my dear wife, anything that you could possibly want. I intend to spoil you rotten. I wouldn't dare die," He leaned in to capture her lips as he closed the placket on his trousers. Long before either of them wanted, they were dressed.

Once they were in the corridor, Hermione raised on her tiptoes and gave Draco a swift kiss on the cheek before rapping the top of her head with the handle of her wand, disappearing before his very eyes.

**HGHG**

After a moment, it was clear that Potter was Draco's only company. He grimaced but began moving, struggling to hide his awkwardness as Potter fell into step with him.

"That was the worst ten minutes of my life," Harry said dramatically.

"Shut it, Potter,"

"Gladly." Harry retorted.

Out of the corner of his eye, Draco could tell that Potter was frowning at him with narrowed eyes. There was murder there and a small part of Draco's mind wondered if he would be killed by the man next to him just for daring to touch his friend before the battle even started.

For the first five minutes, they walked together with their wands out, silently, before they heard the first disturbance. Together they turned toward the sound and nearly cast when Theo and Pansy stumbled directly in front of them.

Theo's brows rose into his hairline and his smile grew slowly wider. Then he began nodding. "Potter," he greeted.

"Nott. Parkinson,"

"About damn time you got here, Potter. Think it was easy keeping the school safe from these arseholes?" Pansy said with narrowed eyed and a thumb pointed to someone, somewhere over her shoulder.

Potter looked taken aback, blinking away his confusion. "What?"

"It's fine." She said, cutting him off, effectively shushing him. "Theo and I were told by Victus that you and Granger were here. We already took out Amycus and we think Alecto is in the bath." She wrinkled her nose.

"Which one?" Draco asked, ignoring the fact that Pansy hadn't called Hermione a Malfoy. Maybe it was accidental, maybe it wasn't. He didn't have the time to hash out exactly what she meant.

"The prefect's bathroom on the sixth floor. The one that the Ravenclaw girls love. The one with all the jets," Pansy said, who looked grossed out.

"Ew," Harry muttered. He vaguely remembered seeing the witch on the Astronomy Tower the night Dumbledore died. The visualization that popped into his mind was grotesque. But once seen could never be unseen.

Draco turned on his heel, made the first right, and took the stairs two at a time. He wasn't going to let his distaste stop him from finally landing a hex on the witch. He didn't care if she was bathing or if she was naked. He also didn't care if she was getting herself off. He had wanted to hex her for the last year and damned if he was going to let anything stop him.

"We've got this Potter," Draco said. "Go with Hermione. Help her organize the troops or whatever. I will find Snape after I am done here."

Potter nodded sharply and veered off at the next intersection, but Theo and Pansy were still with him.

"Is this the one?" Draco asked as they approached the only bathroom, he knew of near the Ravenclaw tower on the sixth floor.

"Yes," Pansy said. She moved to walk in first, but Draco stopped her with a hand to her shoulder.

"I'll do it," he said. Nimbly, he twirled his wand through his fingers and left Pansy and Theo there in the hall.

Steam was so thick in the room that it nearly choked him, and it was worse the farther he walked.

"Who is there?" Alecto's alto voice chimed.

Draco walked up to the side of the inlaid porcelain tub that more closely resembled a swimming pool than a bathtub.

She caught sight of him then, and her eyes widened. "Draco?"

Crouched down beneath the water, she crossed her arms over her breasts as if she were afraid that he was there to steal her virtue. He rolled his eyes.

With his second full smile of the day, he raised his wand. "Stupefy,"

Alecto let out a squeak as she tried to avoid the spell but sank like a stone beneath the water when it hit her.

"Damnit!" Draco growled. He had been so caught up in his pleasure of finally taking her down a notch that he forgot to account for the damn water. With another flick of his wand, she rose and hovered above the surface. Not bothering to be all that gentle, he dropped her unconscious form on the tile of the floor. " _Incarcerous_ ,"

Ropes shot from his wand and wound around her naked body. For a second, he considered leaving her there but the Slytherin in him cautioned that an untended prisoner of war was a potential threat to Hermione down the line.

Flicking his wand again, he covered her with a sheet to hide her nakedness- not that she deserved his kindness- and cast the spell that would make her hover in the air near him, following him to wherever he felt she would be best served.

"Everything alright?" Theo called in.

Draco left the bathroom without a second thought and Theo noticed Alecto's prone form hovering and following behind him with raised eyebrows.

"Should we collect Amycus?" Theo asked.

"Yes," Draco said.

"Pansy and I will do that. Where do you want us to bring him?"

"Abandoned classroom three in the Charms corridor."

"It will be done," Theo said taking Pansy's hand.

After they left, Draco prepared to cast another spell. A spell that he could never master before, though Hermione had tried to explain the concept once. He knew that the Order used Patronus' to deliver messages. It would be great if he could make that work.

The only feeling that he would even consider that would be strong enough for such a spell was the way he felt when Hermione completed their marriage and became his wife. The first time he felt forgiven and loved since his third year.

"Expecto Patronum," He cast. A wicked dragon materialized out of his wand, silvery and badass, flying around Draco's body. He laughed, unable to stop his joy from bubbling out. He did it!

"Tell Snape that we have them. Abandoned classroom three, Charms corridor,"

The brilliant dragon rolled in the air once before shooting off down the hallway.

**HGHG**

Hermione entered the Room of Requirement but wasn't quite sure how she managed it. The door wouldn't appear on the seventh floor as a security measure and had just appeared in front of her. She opened the door and walked through without much thought. It wasn't until the door closed behind her that she acknowledged that it could have been a trap and she would have walked right into it, unquestioningly.

Luckily for her, it was not a trap. It indeed had been the entrance to the room. As many people that were in the room when she first arrived, there were now so many people, she could barely move through the crush. That is until Michael Corner spotted her.

He had grown tall and muscular in the last year and he escorted her easily through the crowd. Once people started noticing that it was Hermione among them, cheers began to rise. Charlie Weasley grabbed her hand and helped plow through the Order that was milling about, towing her until they reached the front of the crowd where Neville stood talking to Arthur and Kingsley.

"Where is Harry?" Arthur asked her the moment he spotted her. Ginny stood on his right and the heaviness in their eyes probably meant that she had already told him that Ron had left them. "And what is this I hear about Draco Malfoy?"

"Harry will be back. He had something to do. And what did you hear about Draco Malfoy?" she yelled over the noise.

"I heard that you two are married,"

"Oh, that. Yeah. It's true,"

"Why?" Kingsley said, butting in, a pained look on his face.

She shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortable with how much to reveal. It made her nervous that so many people knew about their relationship. All it would take is the capture of just one of them to be brought in front of Voldemort to ruin all their carefully laid plans. "It's complicated,"

"But he brought the Death Eaters into the school!" Kingsley protested.

"He did. That is true. Look I can't explain it until this war is over. Too many variables could fail. Do you trust me?"

Kingsley stared at her, heart a little bit broken. "I trust you,"

"Then trust me when I say Draco Malfoy is worth marrying," Hermione said emphatically.

"I really thought we could have built something together," Kingsley said. "Had he not been in your heart already, would there have been a chance for us?"

"I don't know," she said honestly. "I could feel… something. So maybe?"

"I'll take it," Kingsley said with a small sad smile.

"Take what?" Harry asked as he magically appeared behind Hermione.

"HARRY POTTER!" the crowd chanted.

**HGHG**

"Are you ready?" Snape asked Draco as they stared at the door of the newly warded make-shift jail.

"As ready as I will ever be,"

"If I can't get the snake for whatever reason…"

"I'll take care of it if something happens to you," Draco said.

"If this is the end for me, I want you to know that I'm glad you married the woman you love. Even if she is a Gryffindor. Even if she is the annoying know-it-all,"

Draco's lips twitched. "Thanks,"

Snape pushed up the sleeve of his robe and without further ado, pressed his thumb over the blank skin of his forearm. The dark mark materialized under his thumb and stood in stark relief on his usually pale skin.

"And so it begins,"

**HGHG**

The autumn wind whistled through the trees of the Forbidden Forest, cold and biting as if it too knew of the upcoming war. Even the elements lost their warmth in the face of the approaching army. Leaves dropped from their lofty perches, dry and colored, swirling in the wind that carried them. Darkness was fully upon them and the only light came from within Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, or their own glittering Lumos'.

Magical beasts began to converge at the edges of the wood, milling about impatiently. Some stood with the Dark Lord and others hovered on the periphery with horrified anticipation. Their allegiance would be cemented near the end when a clear winner was established. They were the scavengers, the fence-sitters, and neither side, light or dark, deigned to claim them.

Power filled the air with an electric tang, a white-hot sizzle that made every hair on Snape's body stand on end. One after another, Death Eaters apparated in the field that separated Hogwarts from Hogsmeade, wearing the dark cloaks and silver masks of their station. But it wasn't until his master stepped into the empty void next to him that the power coalesced into something visceral.

The very castle shook with the force of Voldemort's arrival. His magic brutally lashed against the wards that now held firm against him. A punishing razor that acknowledged nothing and no one as allies, taking its time to sweep almost sensuously, in a sadistic way, against even his own disciples. Snape moved to his side, a dark foreboding presence that didn't even flinch under his master's volatile magic.

"What happened?" Voldemort hissed.

"Minerva McGonagall helped Potter and the Order take over the castle," Snape said with zero emotion. He was stating the facts and nothing more as if he had just quoted page three hundred ninety-four to an entire class of third years.

"And how did he get in?" Voldemort accused softly before turning to face Snape, catching his eye, and whispering, "Legilimens,"

Snape gave him exactly what was necessary, showing him the moment that Minerva expelled him from the grounds up until he was outside the castle wards that the remaining professors built the second that Snape was deposed.

_The call to arms had blasted through the castle like fire on paper. Whispers of the portraits spreading the word of the Carrow's fall, and Potter's return._

_As Snape stood next to the window in the Headmaster's office, he waited. The time would come soon, sooner than anyone was truly ready for, but come it would, nonetheless. The door to his office flew open, the heavy oak striking the stone wall behind it with enough force to kill anyone who might have stood behind it._

" _Minerva," Snape drawled from his lonely vigil without turning around._

" _The time has come, Severus. You knew it would come to this the moment Albus drew his last breath on the other end of your wand." Minerva said with a hard, unforgiving glare._

_Almost nonchalantly, Snape turned his head to look at her, as if her movements neither startled him nor affected him. He was an ice wall, emotionless and uncaring._

" _You lift your wand against me? Your Headmaster?" He sneered, and he could nearly see the steam pour from her ears. In her eyes, he held no more right to the title as he did to the office and for him, it was reckoning day. And Minerva McGonagall would see justice done or die in the effort._

_The red glow of a stunner hit the stone behind Snape, exactly where he had been standing only moments ago. Lifting his own wand, he cast a slew of nasty charm, pulling no punches. She ducked to let them sail over her head. She was spry for her age and competent. It would be difficult to outduel her. Though it became clear that Snape was the superior dueler, Minerva's fury gave her a raw edge that nearly placed them as equals. The fury of a woman who felt justified in carrying out vigilante justice._

_The next several spells she sent his way, he was able to avoid or redirect. One even shattered the window he stood near. But it was the last that hit below the belt, the one that did him in._

_There were not many people that knew that Severus Snape was an Animagus, but Minerva was one of them. All year, he waited to hear of his talent on the lips of Order members only to be surprised at her silence. Not even a whisper entered into his own dark circles. Only his master was aware of his little secret. He wondered then why she hadn't said anything to her allies if she was so sure of his guilt. However, that didn't stop her from using the one spell against him that would force him into his change._

_The orange spell hit him square in the chest, making him shrink quicker by the second. With quite a bit more panic than he would like to admit, he realized his final form. His leathery black wings brushed the sill as he tried to find his natural balance without crashing into the stone, destroying his body._

_After several panicked beats, Severus rose and wheeled out of the broken window, headed toward the school's boundary with impunity._

_Minerva stood only a pace away from the shattered remains of the window, nostrils flaring with the effort of breathing after their intense duel._

Voldemort pulled out of Snape's mind with an annoyed hiss and caressed the wand in his hand as he was wont to do when thinking. Nagini laid next to him, head buried beneath her many coils, tongue flicking out every few minutes, tasting the anticipation in the air.

_Not yet_ , Snape thought as he watched her out of the corner of his eye. She was so close and so very unprotected. But not yet. Not yet.


	21. The Battle of Hogwarts

**Chapter Twenty-One - The Battle of Hogwarts**

Draco rolled his shoulders as he stepped into the Shrieking Shack that had once housed a werewolf and shuddered at the dereliction in which he found it. Huge gouges of wood were torn from the walls, and the curtains that some hopeful soul hung in there were tattered strips of grey cloth. He could feel the closeness of the space and couldn't help but think that with little encouragement, the walls would collapse in on him.

Breathing in and out, he reminded himself that he was there for a reason. He had a job to do just as Potter did. But, before he could carry it out, he needed a few minutes to himself. These last few hours were the most important and he could ill afford to make a mistake now. Not when every step was so crucial.

Thoughts of Hermione were flowing like his blood, which even now pumped stubbornly through his veins. Every little instance of memory of her was forced behind the final barrier in his mind. Each sweet kiss, the soft press of her body from their parting moments, the sound of her coming undone under his body, and the way she said she loved him. Especially her love. Beyond that, he reinforced his original defenses, knowing without a doubt that the Dark Lord would search his mind as he never had before if there was one misstep. Tearing through to find anything and everything that would give him a clue about Potter's movements and any possible treachery.

It won't be long now, he thought as he unbuttoned his white Oxford at the sleeve and tugged the material to his elbow. His skin below was smooth, ivory, if not a bit translucent. He studied it, as he had so many times before and tried to make out the Dark Mark that would appear only at his master's summons. But there was nothing to find, only thin trails of blue veins. His skin was flawless.

Then, wrenching pain began in his forearm, drawing out the tattoo that branded him as Voldemort's man to the surface. The pain reverberated up his arm and into his shoulder, forcing him to clutch at the newly called mark, dark as his master's mutilated soul. He could feel it, the summons, and this time he knew that if he ignored it, he would never get another chance to do so again. He would be hunted, pursued by everyone he grew up knowing. The fathers of his friends. Luckily, none of his generation, other than himself, had yet to be marked. They, at least, wouldn't be hunting for him. Yet. And they never would if he had anything to say about it.

The single change that his master had yet to realize was that though previously the Shrieking Shack had fallen within the boundaries of Hogwarts, that was no longer the case. Anyone was free to apparate in and out at whim. It wouldn't be long before it was found out though. Draco was going to give up the location of this supposed anomaly to the Dark Lord as soon as possible.

With one last check to his mental defenses, Draco turned on the balls of his feet and disapparated, following the summons and landed with a small crack in the clearing between the Dark Lord and Snape.

"My Lord," he murmured, immediately kneeling on the frozen ground. His thick woolen robes pooled around him like a bride's flowing train, rustling the brittle frosted leaves underfoot.

"Draco," the Dark Lord hissed. "What do you have for me?"

"You were right, My Lord. Potter didn't question the loyalties of anyone in the Room. Our plant is keeping his eyes on Potter's every movement," Draco said reverently.

"Excellent, Draco," Voldemort said, pleased.

Out of the corner of Draco's eye, he saw his mother shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other, fidgeting as she had never had before.

"If only all of my servants were as dedicated and loyal as you are," the Dark Lord cut his harsh glare at Lucius.

Draco was startled as he glanced upward and recognized the man who stood to the Dark Lord's left. His father's long platinum hair had been shorn so that the soft locks stood only about three inches away from his scalp. His eyes were hollow depressions in his face, comically big in his wasting head. As bad as Lucius had seemed before term started, it was nothing to what stood before Draco now. He was skeletal, weak, abused. His hands shook as they clenched around an unfamiliar wand. His father wasn't a good man by any means. Wasn't clear of the charges that the light laid at his feet. Draco knew that the man he knew as his father was a monster. And yet he couldn't help thinking that no one deserved the kind of treatment his father had suffered. In many ways, his treatment was worse than the prisoners that were held below in the Malfoy dungeons or the many poor souls in Azkaban with the Dementors.

Draco's focus was pulled off of his father when his mother gently cleared her throat. The Dark Lord was talking with Snape quietly and Draco raised his eyes to meet those of his mother. She was a pillar of strength and power. Stubborn determination in every line of her body. Had he not been so horrified to see his father in such a state, he would have sent her a questioning glance. One moment fidgeting and nervous, the next strong and confident? She gave him  _the_  look. The one all good mothers mastered to terrify their young spawn into behaving.

"But how do we get a foothold into their boundaries?" The Dark Lord murmured; this time loud enough for Draco to hear. It was just the opening he had been waiting for.

"When McGonagall and the other professors raised the new wards, they left the Shrieking Shack out. Even now it stands unprotected." Draco said.

"And why would they leave such a weak point open for capture? They already know that a tunnel opens on the grounds, well inside the wards."

"They are counting on the Whomping Willow and other enchantments to keep the passage sealed. I was there when the professors discussed that very question."

"And they just let you, a known Death Eater, listen in?" Voldemort hissed.

"If they wanted it private, they shouldn't have been discussing it in the Great Hall with all the students in attendance," Draco said, then smirked. The cold smirk. The one he had used so many times in his youth to terrorize those that he perceived to be beneath him. "I am sure they thought they couldn't be heard over the din. But with the spells you have taught me, these obstacles are barely a nuisance."

"My most promising servant," the Dark Lord praised. "Aren't you proud of your son, Lucius? The only reason you remain alive is because of your son's meritorious service. So capable, he turned out to be,"

Lucius flinched and nodded but tightened his hand around his unfamiliar wand so much so that the wood groaned alarmingly.

"Thank you, My Lord," Draco murmured.

"Dolohov, Yaxley, Lucius, Tear down these wards. Snape, how long do you anticipate them to last?"

"An hour at most, My Lord,"

"You may help them then,"

"Yes, My Lord,"

"Draco,"

"My Lord?"

"A boon," The Dark Lord began, searching Draco's emotionless face with curiosity. A tense silence filled the clearing, the only sound was Nagini's restless slithering. "What do you suggest I do with you?"

"I would stand at your side, My Lord,"

The Dark Lord caressed his own face with the tip of his wand and canted his head as if he were studying the most mysterious of puzzles.

"For now," he acquiesced, then fell into the hissing language Draco knew was Parsletongue. Nagini slithered around Draco's feet, flicking her tongue out at his ear as she passed. He continued to kneel there on the frozen ground as if comfortable, neither stiffening up nor turning in her direction. As if he was fully prepared to live and die at his master's word. "Come,"

Draco rose to his feet. The Dark Lord left his followers behind in the field, his four best wardsmen working at dismantling the prestigious protections that surrounded Hogwarts grounds. The rest of his followers milled helplessly in the field, nervous at the lack of direction. Many were peering intermittently at the school. Some of them had children still inside.

Draco briefly met his mother's stoic eye before turning and following his master into the tight compression of apparition.

Had anyone asked him last year what he would think of following the Dark Lord, alone, to the Shrieking Shack willingly, he would have called them mad. And certainly, he would have thought he would be trembling and terrified of being alone with his supposed master. The truth was that he felt completely calm. Almost as if time had slowed down, allowing him to see everything in glaring detail before it happened.

No doubt, he had a part to play. There was too much riding on his success for him to stumble now.

The Dark Lord had arrived a bare minute before Draco, but he was already sitting on the throne he had used inside Malfoy Manor. Nagini coiled herself up the leg and around the high-backed chair, tasting the air with her flicking tongue from the Dark Lord's shoulder. The man himself was sitting with his eyes closed, fingers steepled against his lips.

Time seemed to move slower in that half-hour whilst the two waited for the wards to fall. Draco took his cue from his master and stood silent, his face like smooth glass. No ripples disturbed the surface. The hardest part of the whole plan was staring him in the face. Waiting was not necessarily a strength of his.

**HGHG**

The stone steps of the moving staircase in the entranceway were cold. It should have been expected since December twenty-third in the highlands was always frigid. Still, the two best friends shifted as they sat upon the granite, too thankful for a moment of quiet before they were called into the Great Hall. The students had been gathered together and the plan to evacuate the young students was being executed. Almost all of which were underage.

Hermione watched Harry battle with himself. Struggling with the need to die and to do it willingly. Not the smallest consideration when one had to choose the perfect moment as well. She wished that she could take the burden off of him, to do it herself and yet on the same vein, was glad that no one else  _could_  be sacrificed.

"Even if you went right now and let yourself be killed or almost killed or whatever, he will not stop. Not while the Order stands strong and in control of his castle. Need I remind you that there are some of the Death Eater's children here?"

"But what would the cost be for waiting?" Harry whispered, pained, rightly thinking of who would die before he delivered himself to his enemy.

"Nagini lives," she hissed. "Your scar lives. Who will finish off his final soul piece in his body if you march off to be killed?"

"Draco is right in the killing zone," Harry said almost maniacally.

"Do you even hear yourself? Why do you think that Dumbledore waited so long to tell you?"

"Because he didn't trust me," Harry's voice quavered for a moment.

"No. He trusted you. I'm sure of it. He knew you, better than he knew the rest of us, and I know that he would have thought you would have sacrificed yourself too soon, knowing that you would have to do it at some point anyway."

"You make it sound as if he cared," Harry rebutted with anguish although his eyes held the hope that she would refute his depressive thoughts.

"I'm certain he did. Albus Dumbledore was many things but unfeeling? I don't believe it for one second. Not where you are concerned. He even cared for me when others hadn't even thought about my parents, went above and beyond by giving me the funds to buy them out so that I could keep all of my childhood furniture not to mention the house itself. He was not a paragon, Hell, at times he wasn't even  _good_. Dumbledore was nothing more or less than a flawed man. A man who made mistakes, just like the rest of us,"

"He was never honest with me," Harry protested but his shoulders had relaxed exponentially. It was clear that he needed Hermione to be Dumbledore's advocate so that he could rage against the man. It was understandable, his reaction.

"Never?" Hermione asked, eyeing Harry with a great deal of skepticism.

"He led me around in circles like a bloody show dog,"

"Didn't he tell you the truth of the Horcruxes? Let me ask you something Harry, if Dumbledore didn't give you all the memories about Tom Riddle to give you a basis for his reasoning and just told you that You-Know-Who had Horcruxes, would you have been able to find those unidentified ones on your own? Without trusting that he was telling you the truth, why are we here? If you cannot or will not believe him, then are the Horcrux actually real? Of course, they are. We know that for a fact. We have seen them, felt them, fought them. If he told you then that you were a Horcrux yourself, what would you have done? Would you have walked away from the war if you knew?"

"Of course not,"

"He knew it was a probable outcome that you would be alone for the last leg of this journey. Not including Ron and me. He told you that there were Horcruxes, have you doubted what Dumbledore told you about You-Know-Who having made them? Have you doubted anything involving the war that he told you?"

"No,"

"You trust him enough to believe, to take on faith, that what he said about the Horcruxes and the founder's objects was the absolute truth. A truth that he told no one else. Do you still believe he didn't care about you?"

Harry stubbornly set his jaw and said, "He left me in that house for seventeen bloody years knowing how I was being treated!"

Hermione nodded sadly and took his hands in between hers, soothing the skin over his knuckles. "It was his burden to make that terrible choice. On one hand, being with your aunt protected you from You-Know-Who and his followers because let's be realistic, he had no idea how long it would take Tom to rise again. On the other, you had to live with people who were supposed to love you but didn't. I don't envy the choice he had to make that night,"

"Sirius could have raised me. Had Dumbledore dug around just a little bit, he would have known that Sirius was innocent,"

"I think I recall you telling me that he had a terribly difficult time keeping Snape out of Azkaban after the first war, another choice of his that I don't envy. He probably had to choose who to save. How could Dumbledore have let Snape fall when Dumbledore knew, even then, that You-Know-Who would be back and more powerful than ever? You need Snape more than you needed Sirius."

"I still need Sirius!" Harry yelled. The sound of his angry protest echoed down the abandoned corridor.

"Not in the same way that you need Severus Snape," Hermione said with finality. "Snape has given you an opportunity to win the war. You have inside intelligence. He protects Draco, you, me… Just by withholding valuable information. And who else do you think was capable of embedding the idea of the Seven Potter's in Mundungus's mind? Think that was You-Know-Who, do you?"

"I miss him," Harry whispered and dropped his face into his hand, elbows on his knees.

Hermione threw her arms around his neck and pulled him in tight, protectively. "I know. Sirius and Dumbledore were your staunchest supporters, the ones who loved you, the ones who, time and again, protected you. Of course, you miss them."

Harry shuddered in her arms and held on for dear life. He didn't refute that he meant Sirius, but she also talked of Dumbledore, because the truth was that he missed him too.

"What should I do then? Let everyone die while I wait?"

"Harry, we are in a war and this is our battlefield, whether we like it or not. Yes, I think you should wait. I think you should wait until the right moment."

"And what is the right moment?" he snorted.

"When You-Know-Who is vulnerable but at a time when he doesn't realize he is. We have allies on the other side. Snape, Draco, Narcissa, even Lucius I suspect. Let them surround the snake and our greatest enemy. Let him lean upon them, let him trust their words. That is the time to strike."

Harry pulled back and cradled Hermione's face in his hands. "I don't know what I would have done all of these years without you,"

"Probably detention," she snorted, thinking of all the times that she saved his arse by helping him complete assignments, not even thinking of the years of fighting and struggling against the solid wall of oppressors he faced.

He smiled and stood, turning back to the Great Hall. He pushed open the heavy doors and walked in, Hermione right behind.

Students stood where the house tables usually sat. Most of them looked shocked and scared, although, some looked pumped as if they had just been handed the house cup.

"All students who are underage and those with family ties to the other side will follow Mr. Filch and Madame Pomfrey who will evacuate you all," McGonagall said.

"Is that wise?" Kingsley said from the side. "Some of these students have parents out there,"

"That is what  _they_  would do," Arthur Weasley argued in a firm voice; it was the sternest that Hermione had ever heard him sound. "They might make hostages of children but not us. It isn't right. And our fight isn't just about winning. It is how we do so. We must follow our morals, even now. Especially now!"

"We wouldn't hurt them, Arthur, and if it could stop one Death Eater from joining the other side during this battle, wouldn't that be a worthy reason?" Kingsley argued softly.

Artur stood firm, hands on his hips, jaw set. "They are just children and all children should be protected no matter which side of the war their parents stand on. They will be evacuated safely, or we will become the monsters that haunt the dreams of the next generation of pureblooded children. That would just perpetuate the cycle. We would be creating future enemies for our children. The animosity has to stop somewhere!"

"Those  _children_  have been using the Cruciatus for the last few months! They are no longer innocent, Arthur!"

"They were forced to cast those spells!"

"Forced or not, it doesn't really matter."

"They could become casualties just by being in the war zone. Are you willing to have the blood of innocent children on your hands?"

"To win this war? Yes!" Kingsley said. Arthur looked upset but stopped as the people in the room parted to let Harry and Hermione through.

"We don't have time for this," Harry growled. "Hermione said the wards will fall soon. In minutes if not sooner. Stop this bickering. We need to evacuate who we can, Slytherin or Gryffindor. Any, who want to, can stay and fight as long as they are of age. Including the Slytherins. Do not presume that they support the other side."

Suddenly the room was filled with a different voice. It was chilling and clear. Terrifying.

"It is no secret that you all are preparing to fight. Fighting against me is pointless. For you cannot and will not win. But I do not want to spill magical blood. I have profound respect for every Hogwarts professor inside these walls and without. It would be a waste to destroy such talent." Voldemort's voice echoed in the Great Hall. "Give me Harry Potter. Give me Potter and no one else will be harmed. The school will remain safe and secure. Give me Harry Potter and I will reward every single person inside these walls. You have until midnight."

Hermione stepped closer to Harry and said in a whisper, "Even now he protects your life by insisting to be the only one who can kill you. He wants you brought to him, not killed on sight. Use that to our advantage,"

"How," He mouthed back.

Hermione looked up and met Pansy's eyes. "Let's get the students who stand against us out of Hogwarts. Let the chaos of their exodus hide those who choose to stay and fight with us. We can still protect our allies from detection. After all, Snape and Draco are far from being out of danger."

"Give me a minute and I will have the whole place in chaos," Harry snorted.

"Not you. Not this time." She nodded minutely at someone over his shoulder and Pansy climbed onto a low table that she had just now conjured in front of her.

"He's there! Potter is right there! Somebody, grab him!" She screeched pointing at Harry. Nott's wand was in his white-knuckled grasp and his other hand was buried in the skirts of Pansy's robes.

That was all it took for chaos to reign. Wands were whipped out and pointed at the Slytherin table where the most vocal supporters stood. The Slytherins drew in and shimmied their young to the back. Crabbe and Goyle leading the pack of loyalists, with rage suffused faces. None of them were lax. None of them stood aside to let Pansy be taken from them.

Kingsley and McGonagall approached the group.

"You will be the first to be evacuated, Miss Parkinson," McGonagall growled in a brogue so thick, she was barely understood.

**HGHG**

In Draco's mind, the breaking of the wards should have been ominous, should have struck a physical blow to the lands around them. But where there used to be the constant magical hum that everyone eventually tuned out in their first year, there was just silence.

The hair on the back of Draco's neck rose, standing on end, and goose pimples flooded his arms. Now that the white noise was gone, it seemed as if it should have been deafening.

With a barely discernable pop, Snape apparated in and bowed at the foot of his master. "It is done, My Lord,"

"Excellent," the Dark Lord hissed.

"You summoned me?"

"I want you to lead the first wave,"

"Wouldn't you rather that I find Potter and bring him to you?" Snape asked.

With a flick of the Dark Lord's wand, a thin whip materialized, leaving a crimson trail of blood on Snape's sallow cheek. Draco watched in amazement. Not only did Snape not flinch, but he was also steadily waiting for an answer as if the Dark Lord's use of the whip wasn't answer enough.

At that moment, Draco really idolized Snape. Who else could kneel before that monster, without flinching, and take whatever punishment meted out with so much apparent ease?

"You don't understand Potter the way I do, he will come to me. He won't be able to stand seeing his friends and allies die for him, one after another,"

"I am positive that he would follow me here,"

"Are you questioning me?" Voldemort roared.

"Never, My Lord," Snape said vehemently.

"I need you on the battlefield, directing my army with precision. Use Draco to communicate with me. I will send him to you every hour. That is if Potter surprises me and doesn't come."

Snape stared at the Dark Lord as if he was liable to change his mind, the silence heavy and stilted between them. When it became clear that Snape had been dismissed, Snape rose and bowed for one final time, before disapparating to his place back on the battlefield.

Time passed and Draco stood in the Shrieking Shack still as a statue and only became aware of the passage of time when the Dark Lord grew more and more disgruntled. Finally, the bells of Hogsmeade village tolled, ringing in midnight.

Voldemort stood and threw a small broken table across the room, shattering the poor abused wood into dust. He screamed his fury, growling and gnashing his teeth, completely enraged that he had underestimated Potter once again. His breathing was labored when he finally stopped. Still, he stared at the hidden entrance that led to a tunnel that would deposit at the foot of the Whomping Willow.

"No." He breathed heavily and his voice rose in volume the more he raved. "He wants to disrespect me? His greatest and most powerful enemy?"

"My Lord," Draco said, falling to one knee and bowing his platinum head. "Command me,"

"Tell Snape to begin the attack." He said menacingly to Draco. Just at the moment, Nagini began uncoiling and hissing. The Dark Lord hissed back and after a brief pause, Nagini disappeared down into the tunnel that connected the Shrieking Shack to the Hogwart's grounds.

"Of course, My Lord," Draco bowed low, before straightening up and turning on the balls of his feet and disappearing with a small crack.

The wind had picked up in the few hours that he had been sequestered with the Dark Lord in the Shrieking Shack. Its gusts were like fingers, clutching and tugging at the heavy robes that identified him as a Death Eater.

Snape and Lucius stood on the knoll watching the castle, watching as students flooded the halls, moving up and up and up the staircases until they reached the seventh floor. That was where the movements ceased, and none that ascended the steps came back down.

"They are evacuating," Snape sneered in a low voice that only the three of them could hear. "Finally."

Draco snapped his head around to look in his direction in shock. Lucius was right there next to him, though none of the others were close enough to hear what he had said. It was also obvious that Snape was still unaware of Draco's presence.

Lucius bowed his head. "They would have fared better against our side had they kept hostages,"

Snape nodded. "That, I suppose says it all,"

Draco cleared his throat and both of the men turned to look at him. Snape shook his head angrily. "I tried to tell him that Potter wouldn't come,"

Draco snorted and retorted, cutting his eyes to his father. "Let's just let him protect Potter. Serves our purposes,"

Lucius smirked, and for a second, Draco was thrown back into his childhood to when he said something that amused his father. When he was a child, he basked in the glow of that approval and affection. Craved it. Now it knocked Draco off-kilter, forcing him to wonder where his father's alliances really lied.

Snape shrugged and turned to his brethren and spoke. "It is time. Our enemy hides behind children,  _our_  children! Blood traitors and filthy Mudbloods who threaten the very fabric of Wizarding Culture have taken over one of the most important magical establishments in the entire world. Are we going to let this terrible wrong stand?"

Chorus' of dissent flooded the meadow.

"Then we must take it back!" He shouted. The crowd had begun to roil as would a wave, the anger and fury was a palpable tide that even the strong winds couldn't clear.

Snape began the ascent to the castle, blasting the iron gates of Hogwarts off their hinges. The Death Eaters strode through, unquenchable bloodlust in their eyes. They couldn't have been more unreasonable if they were an angry mob armed with torches and pitchforks, intent on beheading and destroying an entire nation's monarchy.

Draco moved to follow them, but Lucius held him back with a hand to his arm. He paused, waiting in silence, as the combatants marched up to the castle. Once they were alone, Lucius pulled him into a tight hug. Draco stiffened.

"I love you, Son," Lucius muttered.

"You have a really strange way of showing it,"

Lucius sighed and backed away, placing both hands on Draco's shoulders. "I did what I had to. Just like you,"

"Yes. I'm sure you would like to believe that. You just stood there while the Dark Lord used the Cruciatus on me. I was  _branded_ because of you! I was just a stupid kid, who didn't know what the hell it truly meant. You should have stopped him! You shouldn't have let that monster anywhere near our home!"

"Being branded… you can blame that on Abraxas. For the both of us. He swore for us, binding the entire line to that madman. I had as much choice as you. As for stopping him, do you think I wanted this to happen?" Lucius swept one of his arms in the air around him.

Draco refused to back down, refused to break eye contact, refused to lose this battle of wills. "Except that I have heard for my entire life how below us Muggleborns are. From you. Why wouldn't you want me to join him? Why  _wouldn't_  you want this for me?"

"As was the case for me, I thought that if you believed in the cause, then being in his service would be easier," Lucius muttered. "I didn't want you to be cut off from me and your mother. I didn't want you to be targeted like Sirius Black was!"

"You thought believing would be easier? For who? Not me certainly," Draco laughed mockingly. "I wouldn't have spent a great deal of my younger years alienating-" He stopped short. No matter the provocation, he couldn't tell his father.

"Alienating who? Your wife?"

Draco froze, terror clawing at his heart. "My what?"

"Do not think that because your mother was able to withhold the information from the Dark Lord, she was able to hide it from me."

Draco, in the space of a heartbeat, turned vicious, his angry face morphing into something cold and serious. "Don't you dare touch her," he warned.

"I have no intention of hurting her,"

"Then what is it that you want?" he repeated.

"I think I have a way to truly end this war, but I will need your cooperation," Lucius said. "And if what I believe of your abilities is true, then this is to be the last stand. If all of his… trinkets… are gone, then there is one last thing you need to know."

Draco took a step forward. "I'm listening,"

**HGHG**

The first wave of spells tore through the air. Some missed their intended targets. Some hit the castle, shattering the stone. Some landed with sickening finality. Hermione could hear the clash of magic from inside.

Harry was holding her hand, pulling her through the halls of the castle. They had seen the last of the children out through Ariana's portrait, sealing off the passageway the moment Aberforth confirmed the final evacuee was through. The room was empty but for Hermione and Harry and once they left, that version of the room would disappear.

Much like Schrödinger's cat, the room was both there and not, existing and not existing, as long as no one was in the room to change it.

The castle shook and Harry pulled her faster and faster until they were near to the top of the moving staircase. The portraits were following them, some even shouted spells and encouragement that might help them win.

Noise in front of them slowed their progress so that they could see what exactly they were about to walk into.

"Bloody hell," came a loud voice from the vicinity of the stairs. It was a voice they would recognize anywhere. Ron. "No! Don't let them get up here."

"Potter is up there," a Death Eater snarled. "Break through the line!"

"You are not going to get past us," Ron roared. Harry and Hermione inched closer to peek down between the stone balustrades at the top.

It was the strangest sight. Ron was up a stair behind a dozen or more of the dirtiest, most unkempt lot, all of which were adeptly wielding their wands and keeping the Death Eaters at bay. He was obviously leading the motley crew, bellowing out orders like a five-star general on the greatest battlefield in his career.

The dirty strangers moved when he told them to move, cast spells when he ordered them to and refused to break ranks even when one of them was hit with the Cruciatus. Time seemed sludgy and slow-moving but the small skirmish only lasted a handful of minutes. When the Death Eaters had fallen, Ron and his group moved swiftly up the stairs.

Hermione and Harry stood, and once Ron saw them, he froze. His face was mottled red, his flush rose swiftly up his neck and over his face, and his hand flew to the back of his neck in awkwardness.

"What is this?" Harry asked, gesturing to the group of men who stood behind him.

"Snatchers," Ron mumbled. "Or they used to be. No, look, I am so sorry about what I said in the tent. I didn't mean it. Any of it. I don't even know why I said what I said. I was just suddenly so furious and it was like I was drowning in it. I couldn't get out of that cycle of being angry, feeling guilty, and the fear… I thought I was going to choke on it. I know that isn't a good enough excuse but I regretted everything the moment I left."

"Then how come you didn't come back?" Hermione demanded.

One of the snatchers behind Ron snorted and took a step forward. "We are good at what we do, love. Once we had 'im in 'and, there was no way 'e was escapin'."

"And who are you?" she asked, trying to keep the repulsion off her face.

He confidently moved forward and took her hand in his dirty ones and bowed over it, kissing her knuckles with relish. "Scabior, at your service,"

Hermione pulled her hand out of his grasp and tried to discreetly wipe off his kiss. "So, if you had captured him, how did things turn out like this?"

"The Dark Lord had us working with Fenrir," Scabior muttered mutinously. "That beast needed to be put down."

"Needed? As in, doesn't any longer?"

"That's where 'e comes in," Scabior said, hitching his thumb at Ron. "Took out the bastard wi' 'is bare hands. Thought 'e was gonna turn inta a werewolf 'imself. Surprised us all, 'e did,"

"And that was all it took to change your loyalties?" Hermione scoffed.

"It's enough, yeah?" Scabior said with a lopsided smile, his dark brown eyes running over her face with barely concealed interest.

Ron stood there frozen with devastation. It was clear that he thought that there was no forgiveness. The hard anger that had separated them that day in the tent still laid heavy between them.

Then Harry nodded and crossed the divide, pulling Ron into a one-armed hug. "I forgive you,"

Ron took a shuddering breath and hugged Harry back. The boys separated, Harry smiling as if everything in the world was right and well. Hermione crossed her arms and grit her teeth, stubbornly staring at the stone railing next to them. Ron watched her, grief and the fear of rejection on his face.

"You don't get to say those things to me and walk back into my life as if everything is okay with just a 'sorry'," Hermione said.

"I know, 'Mione," Ron said. He moved closer and reached out for her but dropped it at the last second. "When I said those things, I was so angry. I was angry that you and Harry talked about Malfoy, discluding me altogether. As if my feelings and thoughts didn't matter. I shouldn't have said what I did, and I am sorry for it. Even if I was upset that you didn't tell me anything."

"But what you said, you meant it. All of those horrible things about you wanting us to be together. That you deserved me because you were better than… others," her eyes cut slightly to the Snatchers. The one called Scabior winked at her and she quickly looked away. She would rather go to hell and back than tell them any information that would put Draco in harm's way.

Ron looked pained. "I'm not going to lie and say that none of it was true. I did think that you and I would get together last year, and I still stand by my thought that… others… may not have treated you the way I think you should be treated. But then again, how did I treat you? I often took you for granted."

Hermione softened.

"And I don't have any right to dictate your life or who you have in it. I know that. I will always love you. As a friend or maybe as the one who got away. I don't know. But what I do know is that I don't want to lose you forever." Ron continued. "I would rather be your friend than nothing at all,"

"I, on the other 'and," Scabior said, ruining Ron's moment, "would rather 'ave you in my bed. And if you give me a 'alf chance, love, I'll show ya,"

Ron elbowed him and turned back to Hermione, mumbling another apology. For one breathless minute, Hermione was sure that Ron was convinced that she would never forgive him. However, she suddenly flung her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. All those times the locket had said that they wouldn't have made up last year if Hermione hadn't capitulated dissolved and she knew then that though their friendship was fraught with fighting, one of them would always apologize. Even if it did take them months to forgive each other. She could feel his shaking arms tighten around her back and his body relaxed just a little bit. Or as much as one could relax in the middle of a battle.

Another group of Death Eaters had ventured high enough on the stairs to see their fallen brothers and roared their rage. The group of Ron's snatchers fled down the stairs, wands blazing, Ron behind them, directing them. Hermione and Harry were about to join the fray when one of the portraits caught their attention.

Dumbledore waved them over frantically.

"Headmaster?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"Nagini is in the castle," Dumbledore said hurriedly. "She was able to gain entrance to the Headmaster's office. I don't know how she did it. I don't know why, either. However, the most pressing point is that Slytherin's locket was left in one of the drawers. I don't know how she was able to drop all of Severus' wards, but I am afraid that Tom will know what you have been doing these many months. You need to stop her from getting back to him."

"Damn it," Harry muttered looking back toward the stairs where Ron and the snatchers were fighting the new wave of enemies.

"Be speedy, my boy," Dumbledore said.

This time, Hermione was the one to grab Harry's hand and raise her wand. She would blast all of the Death Eaters to hell if they so much as dared to get in her way. They had come too far, sacrificed too much to let it all crumble now.

Hermione crested the top stair and flung spells over the heads of her new allies, landing nasty curses on those below. Gaining each stair was a struggle but soon enough she was level with Scabior who complimented her deadly fighting style with protective wards more powerful than she would have suspected. Harry was on her other side, fighting just as fiercely as she.

When the last of their enemies fell, Hermione broke through, leaving Ron and the snatchers behind. Harry kept pace at her heels.

They ran through the corridors, as fast as they could, and when they reached the stairs that led to the Headmaster's office, they skidded to a stop. Nagini was there, slithering down the stone steps, head raised like a cobra about to strike. When she saw them, she hissed, her gaping maw wide, and her venomous fangs began elongating, poison dripping from their sharp tips.

"Why did we leave that damn sword in the office?" Harry muttered angrily.

Hermione pulled her bag out of her pocket, opened the neck and reached in, pulling out the long sword of Gryffindor. "I never thought it was a good decision to leave it,"

Harry smiled and took the sword with both of his hands. "Remind me to thank you later. Anything you want, I'll buy it for you. A gift to rival all gifts,"

"So, you say," Hermione snorted and lifted her wand. "Let's end this,"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of your reviews! You all are just so wonderful an audience!
> 
> Thank you to CJRed who alpha read this story for me.
> 
> We are getting near the end guys. I figure there are about 3 or 4 more chapters left. As always, I will let you know when we hit the penultimate chapter.


	22. The Malfoy Factor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to rewriting the ending chapters I was a little bit late in updating, sorry about that! Also, because of all the rewriting of this and the final few chapters, there were not any teasers this week and probably will not be any more teasers on Tumblr. I could post deleted scenes, I suppose, but those were from a completely different (now obsolete) ending.
> 
> Next Thursday, I will not be uploading a chapter. I need the extra week to finish writing the ending and polish it so that the standard of my writing stays high. Thank you all for being so understanding!

**Chapter Twenty-Two- The Malfoy Factor**

_Previously:_

_They ran through the corridors, as fast as they could, and when they reached the stairs that led to the Headmaster's office, they skidded to a halt. Nagini was there, slithering down the stone steps, head raised like a cobra about to strike. When she saw them, she hissed, her gaping maw wide, and her venomous fangs began elongating, poison dripping from their sharp tips._

" _Why did we leave that damn sword in the office?" Harry muttered angrily._

_Hermione pulled her bag out of her pocket, opened the neck and reached in, pulling out the long sword of Gryffindor. "I never thought it was a good decision to leave it,"_

_Harry smiled and took the sword with both of his hands. "Remind me to thank you later. Anything you want, I'll buy it for you. A gift to rival all gifts,"_

" _So, you say," Hermione snorted and lifted her wand. "Let's end this,"_

**HGHG**

Harry readjusted his grip on the sword, treating the heft as an old friend that he was getting reacquainted with. Nagini struck out, despite the distance and Harry danced away, both of them hissing the spitting language of the snakes.

Nagini reared back, growing to twice Harry's height, and struck out with her lethal fangs again. The blade rang dully as the goblin forged steel met ivory, parrying the teeth away from Harry's body.

Hermione watched as her friend twisted, wrenching the steel from where it had locked against her twin fangs. Tiny droplets of venom left red wheals on his arms and neck; the fluid so toxic that merely touching the venom caused a reaction. Then again, Hermione considered, Harry could just be allergic to the toxins.

Hermione clenched her hand around her wand, moving like a marionette, shifting this way and that as Harry and Nagini fought. All she needed was an opening but to cast anything while Harry was dodging in and out of her way would be madness. She felt useless watching but knew that it was the sword that had to make the final blow.

The castle shook and Harry lost his balance. Nagini, who wasn't as affected with the rumbling floor, struck, knocking the sword of Gryffindor out of Harry's hands. Both Harry and Hermione watched in horror as their lifeline slid across the stone. Hermione scrambled after it at the same time Harry did but just as he turned away, Nagini's fangs sank into the back of his shoulder, twin puncture wounds over his shoulder blades.

Hermione's hands had just closed over the hilt of the sword when he screamed in pain alerting her to a greater problem than she ever considered. What would happen if Harry died because of Nagini's bite?

"No," she yelled and swung the sword around to make the great serpent back away for her best friend.

With the sword heavy in her hand, hate filled her soul. She wanted the damn snake dead and she wanted to be the one to do it. But as the sword shifted uneasily in her hand, she realized two things. First was that swinging the sword to destroy the Horcruxes in the Headmaster's office was one thing. Using it to fight against a foe was something quite other. The sword, though well balanced, felt awkward and cumbersome in her hands. Her stance was all wrong, her grip marginally better. Perhaps Harry had an ease with it because he was a seeker and Quidditch training kept him fit. Perhaps it was just because he had a natural inclination for fencing. Whatever it was, other than swinging once or twice wildly, she was out of her depth. No precision should she expect from herself.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Harry had collapsed on his stomach and he was no longer moving. Fear filled every corner of Hermione's mind as she slashed blindly against Nagini's attacks. Though Nagini seemed to evade her effortlessly.

Every stroke of the blade, every strike of fang against steel was one more crack in the glass that represented Hermione's defense. Nagini slithered around her, circling both Hermione and Harry with her coiling body. She was weakening. Not because she wasn't fit enough but because swordplay required the use of muscles that she wasn't even sure, prior to that very moment, that she had.

Hermione slashed out wildly again as Nagini poised to strike again. It was the first time that Hermione landed a blow and marveled at the thin red line of blood that welled up from the scratch, barely larger than a papercut. But it was enough to give Hermione hope that maybe, just maybe, they might survive this. And maybe she might even manage to kill Nagini too, although that still seemed to be too much to ask of her sword-wielding skills. She raised the sword again, adjusting and readjusting her sweaty grip.

Hermione was just about to step into the snake, putting herself in grave danger to deliver another blow when a flash of light from Nagini's snaky head distracted her. She stumbled as she recognized the mangled husk of the locket and its thick chain that hung down the back of Nagini's slithering form, hanging behind her head like the reins of a horse- looped around her jaw as it was.

Nagini took that moment of distraction and knocked Hermione off her feet. Luckily, she was able to keep hold of the heavy sword but not without severe consequences. Her elbows hit the granite beneath her with a sickening thunk, the bones throbbing worse than if she had just bumped her funny bone.

Hermione brought the sword up and pierced Nagini's underbelly, but it wasn't enough. Hermione's strength flagged and the thrust was just a ghost of what it ought to have been. Nagini hissed sickeningly and struck out to embed her venom deep into any part of Hermione's body that she could reach. She rolled out of the way and the snake smacked face-first into the stone. Hermione stabbed weakly again at the scaly flesh that encircled her and Harry.

Annoyed, Nagini rounded on Hermione as her back pressed against Harry's unmoving one and with one last mighty swing, she caught Nagini on the underside of her jaw, looping under the heavy chain of the destroyed Horcrux and severing the thick silver links.

The locket that once housed Tom Riddle's Horcrux flew through the air and hit the wall. The sound of it was lost in the shrieking fury of the snake. Hermione struggled to regain some semblance of balance to swing again but Nagini, who was a furious as anything, pulled away, opting to flee instead of staying to try and finish off Undesirable Number Two.

Hermione gained her feet, struggling to heft the sword as her arms protested but Nagini was moving faster than she could and she doubted she would catch up to her now. Hermione collapsed to her knees, dropped the sword, and yanked her endless purse out of her pocket, pulling it open. Both Murtlap and Dittany met her hands, but she knew, knew deep in her bones that it wouldn't be enough. Nagini had bitten Arthur Weasley years ago and the only way St. Mungos was able to heal him at that time was by using an anti-venom that Snape had created and brewed. She had no such resources in her magically extended bag.

A shadow fell over her, dark and foreboding. She looked up with tears in her eyes and couldn't pull her gaze away. Lucius Malfoy, with glittering silver eyes, sank down onto his knees next to her. Ripping the back of Harry's robes open, he went to work, pouring a thick white substance onto the puncture wounds. He rubbed the cream in with a gentleness that Hermione would never expect from the man especially since the person he was healing was none other than Harry Potter.

"How did you know?" she asked.

"I saw Nagini come from this hallway. I decided to check it out." He said, shrugging as he worked.

"No, I meant that," she pointed at the vial of antivenom.

He smirked, but it was weak and not up to his normal cutting standard. "I always thought that was how I was going to die, he threatened it often enough, and it occurred to me that I really would prefer not to die that way. Severus had already created it, and it took little to persuade him to give me a vial or two."

Hermione watched as the cream sank into Harry's skin, healing the wound in moments.

"Why would you save Harry? I was under the impression you wanted him dead. Me too, for my blood and birth,"

He looked pained and pulled out a fine linen handkerchief, wiping his hands clean. "Things did not turn out as promised. I fought for a cause that aligned with my own thoughts. Mudbloods shouldn't be freely allowed or welcomed into the magical world. But I don't hate  _you_." He looked up at her, eyes searched her face and he looked as if he was weighing something. "You have always been the exception. Such a powerful specimen. It is only a pity we didn't find you when you were young and bring you into our world then. Such is the nature of the way we educate our young. This notwithstanding, I love my son. My family means everything to me. I love them more than I hate Potter. More than I hate the destruction of your kind. And I will do anything to make sure my family makes it through this war alive, even if it means saving Harry Potter's life,"

"That is something we have in common," Hermione murmured.

Lucius' lips quirked. "Yes, I dare say it is,"

"Does this mean that you do not want You-Know-Who to win?"

"Do you think Draco would have any sort of life if he did?"

Hermione shook her head and began to wonder just how much Lucius knew. "What do want in return for healing Harry?"

Harry chose that moment to groan loudly, drawing both of their attention.

"How are you feeling?" Hermione asked. Lucius rose but she paid him no mind.

"Like I've been run over by a herd of Thestrals," came his grunting response.

Hermione chuckled breathlessly, ridiculously relieved that he was okay and reached over to rub his back. Where he had been bitten was two small pink circles, no more the size of a knut each. "It looks so much better and it has only been minutes,"

Lucius was still moving around next to her but when Harry tried to sit up, Hermione reached to help him the best she could. When he was finally seated and rolling his shoulders as if he was stretching, he looked from Hermione to Lucius, who had become still and whose face froze into the blank mask that his son expertly mimicked. It was so familiar that it nearly knocked her off-kilter.

"Malfoy," Harry said coolly but with a reserve grudging thanks.

"Potter," Lucius sneered unpleasantly as if he hadn't just saved Harry Potter's life.

Even though his hair was short, and his body emaciated, he still drew himself up and looked down at them both with a curled lip. After a moment of animosity that hung thickly in the air, Lucius turned, billowing his robes much like Snape had always done and strode down the hallway.

Hermione watched his back a frown marring her face. He never did answer what he wanted in return for saving Harry's life.

**HGHG**

"The snake was in the castle. Sunk her teeth into Potter." Lucius said. "I gave him the antivenom just as you instructed, Severus," Lucius muttered as he approached Severus who was standing back a little way back from the actual fighting, watching as the masses swept this way and that. Sending reserve troops and giants to where they were best suited. Draco was there with him, waiting and ready to do what was needed.

Snape took a deep breath and closed his eyes, snarling, "Can't fucking stay out of his own way. Fucking Potter. Should have tied him up until we needed him,"

Draco grimaced. "And Hermione?"

"She's fine," Lucius said with a roll of his eyes. Draco watched his father's face for a single ounce of a clue about how he felt having learned that Hermione was his daughter-in-law but there was nothing. Lucius was the master at hiding his emotions. Why else would Draco have been so suited to Occlumency?

"Did you get what you went for?" Draco asked.

"Of course," Lucius said with an air of nonchalance as if he wasn't walking the line between life and death by betraying his master.

"Did she see you take it?" Draco persisted.

"She was a bit preoccupied at the time," Lucius replied wryly.

Draco sighed in relief. He didn't want her constantly worried about him. Not when her focus needed to stay on Potter. And she  _would_  worry if she had any idea what it was exactly what his father had stolen from her.

**HGHG**

The shack was groaning as if just existing was too much to bear for the old, abused building. To be fair, left alone, it could have stood for another decade at least. But the magic constantly in flux from within constantly tested its stability. Hence the groaning.

Draco apparated inside, several feet from the spot in which he held his earlier vigil at the Dark Lord's side. The Dark Lord was already on his feet when he arrived, Nagini coiled around his waist.

And Draco knew from experience that anger and frustration tended to make his master throw or destroy things. It was only when he grew quiet that his servants had to worry that death would come for them sooner rather than later. This was such a time, where the only thing moving inside the shack was his master's volatile magic.

The Dark Lord caught sight of Draco the moment he appeared and sat back down on his throne. An unnatural calm was forced upon the occupants of the Shack and then Draco's master beckoned him closer with a distracted hand.

With one hand, The Dark Lord grabbed Draco's left arm, pushing up his robes and impatiently ripping the button off of the cuff of his white oxford in an effort to get to bare skin. Once his forearm was bared, the Dark Lord pressed his thumb into the pristine flesh, instantaneously raising the black mark to the surface.

As much as a summons had hurt, that pain was nothing compared to being used as the medium to summon others. Draco panted through the burning agony and closed his eyes against the bright spots that flashed before his vision.

After several seconds, the Dark Lord released him and pushing him away. Draco stumbled, struggling to stay on his feet. It was close but he was able to keep his feet and make it back to his unspoken spot, slumped though he was. He leaned heavily against a beam that looked sturdier than the rest, but that wasn't saying much. Draco fervently hoped that luck would be with him and the beam would hold him for just a few more minutes while he got himself under control.

Draco had barely recovered when Snape apparated into the Shack and knelt at his master's feet, head bowed. Again, Draco was struck with Snape's noble bearing. Did nothing scare the man?

"My Lord," Snape murmured reverently. "You called for me?"

"I have heard the most fantastical tale, Severus, perhaps you can fill in a few of the gaps,"

The only sign that Snape might have been discomfited was the swallow that made his Adam's apple bob perhaps a touch too quickly.

"Anything you request to know, My Lord, I will tell,"

"Nagini tells me that she found something of mine in your office. The impenetrable Headmaster's lair. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I have been ousted from the castle and have lost the confidence of its professors and I dare say, the castle itself, though it is not inherently sentient. And yet, it isn't quite unaware either. The right person, even if not technically headmaster, could get in my office without my express permission. If there is something there, My Lord, it is not my doing,"

"I want to believe you, Severus," The Dark Lord hissed. "But in this one instance, trust is not something I can afford,"

The Dark Lord stood and Nagini uncoiled herself from around his body, both hissing back and forth. Once the Dark Lord was free of his dearest pet, he turned to Draco and said, "Once Nagini has had her fill, dispose of the body, and join me,"

Draco nodded, shocked as he had never been before, but the Dark Lord had already left, leaving Nagini behind who, even at that moment, held Snape in her hungry gaze. It was too early and neither one of them was in possession of the sword. Snape thought quickly, he had once theorized that a living Horcrux could be killed without the sword or venom. Case in point, how did Dumbledore anticipate the Dark Lord to 'nearly kill' Harry Potter? With the one curse that had proven so ineffective so many times before of course.

The snake struck at the same time that Snape gained his feet, moving just a hairsbreadth out of the way of those terrifying fangs.

"Stupefy," Draco cast. The snake, not expecting a spell from behind, was hit in the back of her scaly head. Snape raised his relieved eyes to Draco's. For a second they stood like that, glad that the moment had fallen into their lap to have Nagini vulnerable and alone. Even if Snape did have to prove how spry he was for a thirty-seven-year-old who had endured more than his fair share of torture.

Snape drew his wand and leveled it at the stunned beast, taking great relish as he gathered the years and years of hate for the man who killed Lily Potter, his longtime and first-ever friend. The only true friend that he ever had. "Avada Kedavra,"

The jet of green light hit Nagini square on, forcing the stunned beast to collapse, lifeless, at Snape's feet.

Nagini laid dead. Potter was now the final piece of the puzzle left to destroy.

**HGHG**

Snow began to fall in those few hours after the battle began, the large fluffy flakes swirling hither and thither in the agitated wind. Those that fought amongst the new wreckage of the castle now battled more than just their enemies, they also battled the frigid temps. It was no wonder that many of the combatants were struggling. Not only did they have to defend themselves, but they also had to keep themselves warm, let alone being on the offensive side of casting spells.

McGonagall who was directing many of her students, recognized her combatant's difficulties early on, from then on, she tried to pair them up. A team would work better than single battles. While one was protecting, the other would cast warming charms on their teammates and themselves or fling curses on their enemies.

Hermione wrapped her robe closer around her chilled body and kept glancing at Harry out of the corner of her eye. They leaned against one of the walls that were still standing near the Great Hall trying to catch their breath. The battle still raging around them.

A chilling voice rang through the battlefield, freezing everyone to a standstill. Enemies and friendly allies together.

_Gather your dead. Get warm. Heal those that need to be healed. Rest._

_Now, I talk directly to you, Harry Potter. Are you tired of seeing your friends and allies die for you? Come to me and I promise that all of those within the castle will be pardoned. Even your Mudblood pet. Come to me, and everyone will live. Come to me and they will be free to stay or leave at their own will._

_You have one hour._

Harry, who was still leaning against the wall, turned to look at Hermione and gave her a lopsided smile. There was love and acceptance. There was peace.

"It's time," Snape drawled from the doorway. Draco stood next to him with a serious expression as if he were just a looker-on and not really involved at all. Maybe it was how he coped with this final moment.

Hermione shot him a shaky smile that he didn't return and slightly shaken, turned back to Harry. He nodded at Snape and pushed away from the wall, cupping her cheek. Gently, he placed a very sweet kiss on her forehead. She leaned into him, struggling to hold back tears.

"Please," she said through a thick layer of tears that were forcing their way out of her. "Please come back,"

He pulled away and looked down at her while smiling. "Whether or not I come back, you will be fine. I trust Malfoy in this one thing, the most important thing. I trust him to always, always love you. To take care of you. If I don't come back, please understand that it wasn't because I didn't love you enough or Ginny or the rest of them. I'm tired. I'm tired of fighting. I'm tired of being used. It is enough. My sacrifices have been enough."

Hermione grabbed his face in between her hands, her eyes were blazing, and her fervor engulfed her entire body. "You can be done right now! You don't have to do this. You do not have to go and die. No one owns you, Harry Potter. If you want to leave, Draco and I will go with you. Right now. Tonight."

"Draco will not leave his family or his inheritance,"

"He was willing to give every single bit of that up once he chose me. But that is beside the point. I will always go with you and he will always go with me. It is something about loyalty and love and stubbornness and sheer fucking grit. Say the word and we will leave this all behind,"

"I can't do that," He said with a smile. "And I wouldn't want to. Everyone I care about is here tonight in this castle. You are not the only one I love. And the war could all end tonight. Not just for me, but for everyone. Without my death, Tom will never be truly gone."

"There is still the chance that even after you kill the Horcrux in your head that it won't be over. He is still strong and magically gifted, more so than he ever was. There is a chance that he will win because he is just as powerful as Dumbledore was at the end. So no, your death doesn't insure his."

"But there is no chance of his death without mine. I will give everyone the opportunity to finish this once and for all," Harry stepped back out of her reach and gave her another smile, just as serene and affectionate as before. "After I leave, tell Ginny that I love her and that I have loved her for much longer than I ever admitted. Tell her that I would love to marry her when this is all over when we both grow up a bit more."

"Fucking ridiculous," Snape muttered to Draco who muttered back something neither Harry nor Hermione could hear. The two snickered lightly.

"Maybe it is," Harry said and leaned in just a little, keeping his voice loud enough for the two in the doorway to hear. "but at least I'll die knowing that I told the ones I love how I felt about them,"

Snape shut up so fast, even the crickets didn't have time to chirp their solitary songs.

Hermione smiled and blinked away the tears that threatened to escape. "I'll tell her. If this is our final goodbye, I want you to know that though our childhoods were marred by the war, having you in my life enriched mine. I wouldn't ever choose a life in which you are not with Ron and me at Hogwarts. I will make sure to tell Ginny everything,"

"If I don't come back, I want her to know that I left her everything in the world I own. I figured that if I would have lived, she would have had access to it all anyway as my wife," his smile grew as he thought of something funny. "Isn't that what Malfoy did for you as well? Funny how our thoughts are so similar when we could never get along as boys,"

"Both so fucking noble," Hermione laughed through the tears she could no longer hold back.

"To make a better world for my future nieces and nephews," He said, tapping her flat belly. She rolled her eyes and smacked his arm, turning away while smiling to hide the evidence of her tears. She didn't want to send him away sad or upset because she couldn't keep her emotions under control.

Without further ado, Harry turned and walked past Snape and Draco. Harry patted Draco on the shoulder before walking straight out into the night. The doors had fallen nearly at the beginning of the battle and the wall collapsed minutes before the temporary cease-fire. Once he was out of sight, Hermione grabbed Draco's hand and towed him into the Great Hall, where Madame Pomfrey set up a makeshift infirmary. The dead lay in two lines that spanned the length of the room.

Ron beckoned to her from where the Weasleys sat near the back and she began to pick her way slowly through those that were sitting on the floor waiting for medical attention. Many of them muttered words of encouragement at her or touched her on the shoe or knee hoping for some luck.

It wasn't until they walked near the rows of the dead when she stopped in her tracks. Next to her was the pallid face of Kingsley Shacklebolt, his dead eyes staring up at the ceiling. She squatted next to him and ran her free hand over his eyelids, muttering an incantation that would seal his eyes shut.

Hermione looked up at the ceiling, not even wiping at the unchecked tears. Wretched grief stabbed her over and over and over again. Would he have lived if she chose him over Draco? He was always so kind to her, caring about her parents when no one else thought about them. He even cared for her while she was ill and in hiding. Merlin, she wished she wasn't so blasé about his feelings earlier when he had asked her why she hadn't chosen him. She should have said how wonderful he was and how kind. She should have said that it mostly came down to timing.

"I'm sorry," she said to him. "I wish I had the chance to say just how sorry I am."

"Hermione," Draco muttered, tugging at her hand. "Come,"

She shook her head but stood anyway, trying to clear her eyes of the filmy cloud that covered her eyes. A fine linen handkerchief was thrust into her hand and she dabbed at her face before continuing on.

The Weasleys stood together, all alive if not exactly healthy. Charlie had his shirt off and was wincing as Mrs. Weasley patted a thick purple gel on his ribs. George was cradling his left hand which had several fingers missing, an open cask of Skele-Gro sat on the floor next to him. Ginny was trying to magically fix her shirt, which was ripped open at the shoulder, showing much of her torso. A small white scar marred the supple flesh of her side.

"Hermione, where's Harry?" Bill asked, looking over her shoulder.

She glanced over her shoulder and saw Snape slink into the room, uncertain of his reception. Though many people saw and grimaced, none said a word. Perhaps they thought Tom sent him to keep an eye on them all. Perhaps he was truly on their side. It seemed like none of them cared. Hermione waved to him to come and join them. With bad grace, he moved through the crowd of the sick and the dead.

"Harry had something to do." She said evasively, trying not to alarm anyone. "Ginny, can I have a word?"

Ginny shrugged, "Sure," and gave up fixing her shirt.

The two of them moved away for some privacy. Snape was looking at her as she walked away as if leaving him with the Weasleys was the worst and most terrible act of betrayal. Around him converged the large family, their hard voices rising higher the longer they interrogated him. Hermione gave him an apologetic shrug. He was a big boy; he could handle himself.

"What's up?" Ginny asked.

Hermione snorted and with a flick of her wand, fixed Ginny's shirt.

"Thanks,"

"No problem," Hermione said. "Look, don't freak out. I need you to stay perfectly calm. Can you do that?"

"I'll try," Ginny said a bit unsurely but was narrowing her eyes on Hermione.

"Harry wanted me to tell you that he loves you, that if at the end both of you are still alive, he would like to marry you, and most of all, if something happens to him and he doesn't make it, he has left everything to you because and I quote, she would have had access to all of it as my wife anyway,"

"And why isn't Harry telling me this himself?" Ginny asked in a cold voice.

"He couldn't say goodbye to you without raising alarms. He doesn't want to die, just know that it is a possibility. But it always was, wasn't it?" Hermione said.

"But you were with him and now he is gone somewhere to be all heroic, hasn't he," She looked up and toward the door.

"That about sums it up."

"Is it important?"

"Yes,"

"Then I will wait for him to return. Only Merlin could help him if he dared to tell me he loved me for the first time through a friend just before dying. Scratch that, I'll become a necromancer and raise him from the dead and torture his soul for the rest of our days if he thinks he can die on me after telling me all that. Good luck, Harry Potter," She said sarcastically to the air. "You will wish you had the honor of a final death when I get through with you,"

Hermione snorted. "I'm sure he wouldn't dare,"

"Are all you Gryffindor women so terrifying?" Draco drawled from right behind them, causing the two witches to jump nearly out of their skin.

"Yes," Snape deadpanned from beside him. Hermione rolled her eyes and Ginny grinned at Draco.

"Just you wait, Malfoy, I hope you never cross Hermione, she is the most vindictive of the lot,"

"I am not!" Hermione protested but Ginny nodded her head at him silently behind Hermione's back, a silly smile on her lips. The smile did not reach her eyes and every once in awhile, her eyes would dart to the double doors to the Great Hall in worry.

**HGHG**

The forbidden forest was dark and ominous, silent as it had never been before. The snow fell faster, accumulating several inches on the ground. Lucius shifted from foot to foot nervously, trying not to cause any of his tortured and broken bones to rub against each other, boots crunching the snow underfoot.

Their entire inner circle was present, quietly waiting for the hour to be up. Many of them had already voiced their doubts that Potter would come, many claiming he would flee the battlefield altogether. But the Dark Lord was stoic, standing as still as a statue facing the damaged castle.

Narcissa slipped her tiny, cold hand into his and gave a little squeeze. Warmth flooded him and he glanced at her gratefully. He had become so cold in the December air, watching as the snowflakes fell harder and harder from the sky. Great puffs of frozen breath lifted from the clearing. She smiled at him, a sad, longing smile that harkened back to better times. He closed his eyes and shoved all of his thoughts and feelings to the back of his mind.

The group stopped milling as an echoing crunch reached them. Someone was coming.

The Dark Lord caressed his wand and he canted his head as Harry Potter, wandless and alone, entered into their midst.

Neither wizard moved for what seemed like the longest time. Then, when it became clear that Potter wasn't going to pull his wand to duel, the Dark Lord lifted his and leveled the wood at Potter's head.

Another beat passed before the Dark Lord opened his mouth and said, "Avada Kedavra,"

A jet of green light flew from his wand tip, hitting the young wizard right in the middle of his forehead. Harry Potter fell to the ground, head bouncing a bit as the back hit the snow-cushioned ground.

At the same time, the Dark Lord fell, breath arrested and on his back. It appeared as if both wizards were dead. Narcissa took an unsteady step forward, bypassing her sister, Bellatrix, who was staring at the unconscious duo.

Lucius let her hands drop as she approached them.

"I will care for our lord," Bellatrix said shrilly, reaching for the Dark Lord's serpentine face. Narcissa nodded and moved for the other body lying on the ground.

Suddenly, the Dark Lord took a deep breath and opened his eyes to Bellatrix over him, cooing soothingly. He blinked rapidly and sat up, pushing Bellatrix unceremoniously out of the way. "Is he dead?"

Narcissa sank to her knees and laid her head on Harry's nearly still chest, fighting to keep others from seeing the telltale rise of each breath as his heart thundered under her ear.

"Is Draco alive?" she whispered so softly; he nearly couldn't hear what she said.

"Yes," was his barely perceptible response. Her nails lightly dug into his skin before she retracted them and turned to look at the Dark Lord. She bowed her head with a sweet, demure smile. "He is dead, My Lord,"


	23. The Twisted Mind of Lucius Malfoy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience while I rewrote these last few chapters.  
> Also a big thanks to CJRed who Alpha read this story.

**Chapter Twenty-Three- The Twisted Mind of Lucius Malfoy**

_Previously:_

_Narcissa sank to her knees and laid her head on Harry's nearly still chest, fighting to keep others from seeing the telltale rise of each breath as his heart thundered under her ear._

" _Is Draco alive?" she whispered so softly; he nearly couldn't hear what she said._

" _Yes," was his barely perceptible response. Her nails lightly dug into his skin before she retracted them and turned to look at the Dark Lord. She bowed her head with a sweet, demure smile. "He is dead, My Lord,"_

**HGHG**

"Have the giant carry him to his beloved Order," The Dark Lord said, his glee fairly dripping off of him. He threw his arms wide and tossed his head back as if he was enjoying the snowflakes as they fell on his face. Assured as he was of his triumph, he prepared to crush the remaining rebellion.

Except for those few who jumped at their lord's command to free Hagrid from where he was tied with massive ropes against one of the great oaks that towered over them, the Death Eaters fidgeted, unsure of what to do next.

Once the massive wizard was free, he ran to Harry Potter where he laid, who was seemingly unmoving on the previously disturbed snow.

"No," Hagrid sobbed. He picked up Harry's glasses from where they had fallen to the ground and gently placed them back on his face. Tenderly, scanning the boy's still flushed face in wretched denial. "No' 'arry. No' 'arry Potter. Dumbledore said. 'e said you would be fine…"

The last of his words were lost in the crack of a punishing whip, the tip of which struck him on the back. A ribbon of red began to stain the edges of his coat where the whip's force had split the fibers.

"Pick him up," The Dark Lord commanded.

Hagrid's tears ran into his beard, unchecked and copious, dampening the hair and creating icicles that formed like tiny stalactites. He looked once over his shoulder, glaring at the beast who had killed his hero. The boy in which he laid his hopes, his friendship, his loyalty. Then with more tenderness than he even had exhibited with Norbert, his once dragon daughter, Hagrid scooped Harry Potter up into his arms. He settled the boy in his arms like an infant, cradling the child who carried the expectations of the entire wizarding world.

Lucius reached forward and drew Narcissa back, away from his lord's notice, away from her crazed sister, away from the chaos that would reign the moment that Harry Potter unveiled the twist to his beautifully crafted scheme.

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, a speculating and suspicious glance. But still, she held his hand, obediently moving back and back until she was behind him and out of the Dark Lord's eyesight.

At the second crack of the whip, the procession began moving. Hagrid was first, followed by Mulciber who held the other end of the biting whip. The Dark Lord followed behind them, his stride relaxed and triumphant. Everyone else fell in line, taking their implicit positions within the ranks. Those who curried favor walked closest to the Dark Lord. Those who weren't even unlucky enough to have been marked trailed after that group in their own unspoken ranks.

The snow and wind abated once they cleared the edge of the forest. The grounds became hushed as it always did right after a heavy snowfall, minus the crunching footsteps of the army approaching the castle.

The deafening silence was eerie.

From Hogwarts, they could hear the mourning of the dead. Thin wails were muffled by distance and ruined stone but were strangely piercing. Grieving cries echoed across the closing distance.

Lucius's breath caught as the Order and Potter's friends began to stream out of the castle, wands gripped tightly in freezing hands, grim readiness in the way their shoulders were tensed. They must have had someone on the lookout, because other than the muffled crunch of snow, the group made no other sound.

One would think that the approaching army would be celebrating their win, but Lucius knew that few considered their Lord's victory a win. None of them could stop though, and they knew it. They only survived on the hope that one day, they would gain enough favor and power to keep those that they loved safe. But safety lay in the unrecognized and it was already much too late for every single person who was branded. They felt the weight of that like heavy iron shackles around their necks. However, there  _were_  the rare few that reveled in the cruelty and blatant disregard for life. It was they, who clustered the closest around the Dark Lord.

"Harry Potter is dead," The Dark Lord's voice rang clear and terrible across the courtyard. He stopped there, a clear no man's land in between him and his enemies. His Death Eaters converged on the space surrounding their master and effectively cut off any route of escape that way, not that any of the remaining Order would try to flee. "It is not my wish to shed magical blood. Come to me, my sons and daughters of magical purity, and accept my forgiveness and your redemption. I would see no harm come to you,"

"Didn't you say if Harry came to you, you would free us all, even those your kind call thieves of magic?" Charlie Weasley yelled.

"Would you take me up on that offer if I extended it?"

A beat of silence passed before Neville Longbottom stepped forward. "Just because Harry is dead, doesn't mean that we don't believe in what we fight for. You are a disease," he sneered but was clearly picking up steam by the way he raised his chin and took another step into no man's land. "Our cause was not Harry Potter. Our cause was destroying you and everything you stand for! Retribution for lives taken, for lives lost,"

The Dark Lord's upper lip quivered in fury, the only indication that he was holding back his terrible anger. "You are pure of blood, Neville Longbottom, you do not need to die,"

"But my parents, who were both purebloods, did?" Neville said. "How does that make any sense?"

"Your parents were an unavoidable tragedy." The Dark Lord said dispassionately. As if Neville Longbottom should naturally understand the sacrifice that they had to make for the cause.

Neville moved to run forward, lifting his wand in angry retaliation but a heavy hand stopped him and held him in place. The dark, forbidding presence behind his shoulder made Neville stop, he was so used to obeying the man who was behind him.

"Severus," The Dark Lord hissed. "Still alive?"

Lucius's heart was pounding, and his hand tightened around Narcissa's unconsciously, not that she said anything. She merely squeezed back before disengaging her hand.

Severus was standing on the steps of Hogwarts, one hand on Longbottom's shoulder, and the other was wrapped around Amycus' bicep. Amycus seemed calm, and Lucius could almost believe that the man stood there willingly, but for his eyes, which were rolling wildly in fear- not unlike that of a crazed horse.

"Lord Voldemort," Severus snarled.

"I would have thought Nagini would have dispatched you already," The Dark Lord said coldly. "Where is she, my pet who has disobeyed her master?"

"Dead," Draco Malfoy's voice rang out as he descended the stairs to join Severus.

Lucius drew in a sharp breath and heard Narcissa do the same behind him.

"Draco Malfoy," The Dark Lord breathed as if this was a shock that he could barely comprehend. He lifted his hand and motioned the young man to come and join him. "Come,"

Instead, Draco reached into his black cloak and drew out the sorting hat, flicking it open as one would with a brand-new garbage bag. He held it upside down, extending his arms to Snape who stood beside him. Snape reached in the hat burying his arm to the elbow before pulling back out, this time with the sword of Gryffindor in his grasp.

Snape ran the blade in the air several inches away from Amycus's neck and held it there.

"Draco?" The Dark Lord called, beckoning him with his hands. "There is nothing done that can't be sorted. We will discuss everything later after we deal with the Order."

"I killed Nagini," Snape interrupted.

"And I stunned her so that he could," Draco said with a sneering half-smile. He looked directly at the Dark Lord as if taunting the man.

"No!" The Dark Lord screamed and aimed his wand at the two defectors but before he could cast, Snape brought the sword to Amycus's throat and pushed his captive's head forward before sliding the Goblin forged steel into the skin and severing both of the carotid arteries with one smooth motion. Amycus's eyes bulged and his mouth opened and closed as he struggled to take in air, only managing to suck in blood through his mutilated trachea. Blood coated the stone walk below them, sprayed in an imperfect semi-circle like a macabre carpet.

A sickly yellow spell flew past Snape's head, followed almost immediately by another dark blue spell. That spell ricocheted off of the newly formed  _Protego_  that appeared directly in front of both Draco and Snape.

Snape swung the sword to his side and pushed Amycus's corpse to the ground, letting the newly cooling body land face-first against the hand-laid flagstone.

It was like the dam that held everyone back and frozen in place, broke. Everyone jumped into motion. The battle was back on, fierce and more determined than ever before. No man's land was a thing of the past and both sides clashed unforgivingly.

Lucius and Narcissa were shunted to the back of the fray, and content, they watched the crush.

"Draco," Narcissa said in a strangled voice and clutched her throat with one of her small hands. Her fear was nearly physical, it was so strong.

"Wait. Look," Lucius said softly pointing at Draco who remained on the steps of Hogwarts.

Hermione Granger stepped down so that she was only one or two steps behind Draco and Snape. Fiercely, she brandished her wand and protecting Snape and Draco while the two of them sent spell after spell at their once master. The duel looked evenly matched, as much as it pained Lucius to admit. The Dark Lord was definitely the most powerful wizard there by far. Even though Severus was powerful and skilled in his own right and Draco had the potential to one day rival even the late Albus Dumbledore.

"Where's Harry?" Hagrid's panicked scream suddenly cut through the noise of the battle. Then again, Lucius reasoned, he wasn't so far from the giant that he wouldn't have easily heard him speak anyway.

His lips quirked and he grabbed Narcissa's hand. "It's time,"

"For what, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy?" Narcissa asked in that low dangerous voice that should scare any and every person she used it on. Lucius merely winked at her and pulled her along, moving not toward the giant or to the castle, but to the Dark Lord's side. Narcissa glared at him furiously, clearly thinking that he had forsaken Draco. But, she couldn't be farther from the truth.

**HGHG**

Hermione's head snapped up when she heard Hagrid bellow. Hope pounded fiercely through her breast. When she had walked out of the castle and Harry lay limp in Hagrid's arms, she had despaired, and a large lump stuck in her throat. So, he had chosen to die, she thought at the time, trying to shove her grief for her best friend to the back of her mind. She had known his death was a possibility and now she had to finish this battle so that his final sacrifice wasn't in vain. Then, when the fighting was done, she could pull the memory of him forward and mourn his loss.

"For Harry Potter!" Tiny voices rose as a veritable flood of house elves, armed with kitchen knives and iron skillets, joined them from the castle, co-headed by Dobby and Kreacher. The pair brutally swung their weapons at every pair of legs they came across wearing the black robes that revealed their alliance with the Dark Lord.

Then, Hermione's attention was momentarily drawn by Molly Weasley, who had made her way through the crowd, taking Ginny and Luna's place opposite Bellatrix Lestrange as they were blasted off of their feet. The two girls stood and watched the Weasley matriarch with wide eyes, absently running their wands over the smaller wounds Bellatrix had inflicted.

"Not my daughter, you bitch," Molly snarled, and her voice carried over the battlefield, causing a muted hush to fall.

Bellatrix laughed and danced out of the way of Molly's spells, while still managing to send her own, nasty ones back. The stone beneath their feet heated and cracked under the fury of the spells and a wider circle of people cleared, pushing backward, their own individual battles paused. The two women were left to battle alone, Bellatrix laughing wildly and Molly who stayed focused and determined.

Overconfidence was a bitch and of all the things that would kill Bellatrix Black, she never thought overconfidence would be one of them. However, when Molly cast what was clearly a powerful arresting charm, it flew under Bellatrix's outstretched arm and hit her squarely over her heart. Bellatrix froze, a mocking smile still on her lips before falling backward, dead. There hadn't even been enough time to show her disbelief on her face before her heart stopped in her chest.

Voldemort screamed in rage, unable to stand watching his greatest, most devout follower fall.

Suddenly from right behind Hermione's shoulder, she heard a voice whisper, "Don't scream. It's me,"

Tears burned her eyes as she heard the voice that she had thought would live on only in her memories. Harry Potter was behind her, under his cloak, saying nearly the same thing as he had when they were in the Wizengamot chamber hunting for the locket that had been around Dolores's big fat stupid neck.

"Harry," she sighed happily as she cast another  _Protego_ , as her prior spell had been ripped through by Voldemort himself.

Draco and Snape must have heard her because Snape took a chance to glance back at her, one eyebrow arched high into his hairline. He immediately turned back to Voldemort, eyes glittering with malice and glee that every student who graced Snape's potion class could identify. That look usually came right before something truly unpleasant for whichever hapless student that he had in his sights. That student was usually Harry Potter or Neville Longbottom.

Harry, on the other hand, brushed past Hermione, threw off his cloak, tossed it to the side, and stepped between Snape and Draco, showing everyone in the courtyard that he felt safe presenting the two former Death Eaters with his unprotected back. The faithful cloak, though tossed aside, would be retrieved later for it had already served its purpose.

Ron, surrounded by the snatchers, flanked Hermione. She looked from face to face quickly, noting the blood spatters, the renewed hunger for vengeance, the grim anticipation.

Scabior caught her eye and winked at her and murmured, "'ello again beautiful,"

She snorted and rolled her eyes, focusing back on Harry and Voldemort.

"How the fuck is this possible?" Voldemort screamed at Harry. "Why won't you just fucking die?"

"Did you think you could kill me, with my mother's sacrifice flowing through both of our veins?" Harry reiterated.

They were at a standstill, neither of them casting. The skirmishes around them came to a stop as they realized Harry Potter was alive and standing in front of Voldemort.

Hermione stared in disbelief as Lucius took his place behind Voldemort's right shoulder, joined reluctantly by Narcissa. On Voldemort's other side stood another Death Eater that Hermione had seen but didn't know the name of. A large mountain of a man with blond hair.

"One of the biggest regrets of my life was killing your mother. She has caused me no end of difficulties!" Voldemort roared.

Hermione cast a startled eye at Snape as his body went absolutely rigid. The grip on his wand tightened, and the planes of his face hardened into something she could only describe as feral. Harry looked no better.

"But you discounted her and her magic because she wasn't born to a family who had already been raised in the wizarding world. It was her, a Muggleborn, who defeated you at every turn. You can't understand her sacrifice, can you? You wouldn't die for anyone."

"Why should I? The wizarding world needs me! Needs my reform!"

"You call this reform?" Harry laughed.

"Blood needs to be shed before any actual change takes place,"

"This is why everyone despises you! You wanted change? Then you should have tried peacefully first! I will not argue with you that the Ministry is corrupt and broken. I actually agree with you on this point. But this was never about a government drowning in fallacy. This is about you and your unending quest for eternal power,"

"When I am so magically gifted, why should I, who has reached farther and more deeply into magic than anyone has ever done, live just one life when I could live on indefinitely? You think I didn't know that you were hunting Horcruxes? Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

"You would have never noticed if Nagini had not found evidence so foolishly left by me in the Headmaster's office! You are so far gone, your soul so mutilated, that you didn't even feel it when they fell one at a time to Dumbledore, to me, to my friends."

Voldemort bared his teeth at Harry as if he were a wild animal and Harry was his next target. "You know nothing of what I have done to ensure my life,"

"The Diary, the Gaunt Ring, Slytherin's Locket, Hufflepuff's cup, Ravenclaw's Diadem, Nagini, and my Scar. Seven Horcruxes. Eight soul pieces. The biggest and most terrible atrocity against human nature, against life itself! All of them are now destroyed. There is nothing that stands between you and death,"

"You," Voldemort said softly, a secretive smile just pulling the corners of his lips upward. "I did not think to have made you into a living Horcrux. Interesting. There were many explanations of our strange connection, but I will admit that since I know how Horcruxes are made, you being a Horcrux surprises me."

" _Was_. I was a Horcrux. No longer. You destroyed your own Horcrux willingly, by your own hand. You helped us destroy you in the end. What a team player,"

"It matters not," Voldemort said, raising his wand. Harry raised his at the same time, steady and strong.

For a moment, no one moved, no one said a word. Voldemort and Harry Potter stood facing each other, focused only on the one in front of them.

"Perhaps there is one other thing you should know," Voldemort said.

"Oh? And what's that?" Harry said.

"After Nagini came to me with the knowledge that you and your little band of rebels were hunting for my Horcruxes, I had just enough time to create one more. No, Harry Potter, don't bother sending your Mudblood after it. You will never find it. I have not tied this last contingency of mine to anything that you would link back to me or my interests like the others."

Harry shifted, clearly trying to think of what to do. Hermione froze in horror. It had been a short two hours since Nagini slithered away from the Headmaster's office. How could he have created another and so fast? Then again, he was the wizard that created a Horcrux without knowing. Perhaps his soul was so used to splitting off that it was held together by nothing more than delusions of grandeur.

Snape shifted closer to Harry and muttered something in his ear. Harry immediately clenched his fingers around his wand and his eyes narrowed. Whatever Snape said had Harry going and she could only imagine what it was.

"Even if it takes me my whole life, I will never stop fighting against you,"

"You think you will live long enough to have another chance?" Voldemort laughed. "At least I finally know who the spy is and whose loyalties I can or in this case, can't rely on." He looked pointedly at Snape and Draco who stood just behind Harry.

"Even if this is my end, there will always be another just like me and someday, even if I fail today, another will rise to take you down," Harry said with conviction.

"Such pretty words," Voldemort sneered. "Once you are gone, there will be no one who can stop me. I will never again make the same mistakes as I did with you. I see it so clearly now. Mistakes, each worse than the last. But no more. I have learned, Harry Potter,"

"I doubt it," Harry said. Voldemort laughed. It was high and it echoed chillingly off the ruined stone face of Hogwarts.

Then the two powerful wizards moved as if on cue, the  _Expelliarmus_  left Harry's lips at the same time that  _Avada Kedavra_  left Voldemort's.

Another flash of yellow hit Voldemort in the back moments later. Voldemort vigorously shook his head to clear it but couldn't shake the  _Confundus_  before Harry's disarming spell hit him. His wand flew through the air and clattered loudly to the stone walk some distance away.

At the same time, Harry tried to move, he wasn't fast enough. It was clear that Voldemort's killing curse was going to clip him or even hit someone else as well. Draco, coming to the same conclusion, shoved Hermione with his elbow before lunging at Harry Potter, knocking him out of the way to safety.

The spell landed on Draco's thigh and he collapsed on top of Harry, dead.

Hermione screamed though she couldn't recall opening her mouth to do so. She stared at Draco's limp body in horror, her piercing scream accompanied by the high disbelieving fear of Narcissa's.

"Draco! Wake up, Damn it! You owe me! You can't die! YOU PROMISED!" Hermione screamed.

Vaguely, she saw that those who had stood and watched the final moment had burst into movement. But she had no room in her mind for it.

Hermione had fallen to her knees next to Draco's body and helped Harry settle him on his back. Narcissa's fingers were at his throat, checking for a pulse, her blond tresses dancing as she shook her head in denial.

Lucius ran over to them too. Hermione could feel him as he fell to his knees right behind her. His shaking arm skimmed her side as he reached for Draco's face, cradling the love of her life in his palm.

She felt dead inside. Every hope for the future, every word, every touch. They had so much to discuss. So much to work through. How could he leave her alone to live out the rest of her life without him? Not that she couldn't do it, more like she looked into the foggy ruins of the shattered dreams she had built for them and could only see emptiness and loneliness. There would never be another man who she loved this fiercely. Even time wouldn't fade the remembrances of their desires. They struggled so hard just to be together.

Oh, how much time she had wasted.

She greedily tried to hold on to each second of her memories where he smiled at her. That one smile that she craved. The one that bared his soul when he looked at her. The one that changed everything.

Just one more time, she pled with God, I would give anything for just one more smile.

Lucius wept behind her and he rested his forehead against her back, his hand was extended over Draco's torso, clutching Narcissa's hand.

Trembling, Hermione reached out with both of her hands and ran her fingers over the face she loved dearly, hoping to memorize his face for the long lonely future to come.

Then the ripples started. Like tremors that ran across the skin of his face, neck, and hands. Hermione blinked rapidly as he bubbled, features reforming right in front of her eyes. It wasn't so drastic a change as it had been when she changed from Mafalda Hopkirk and back but it was enough to see that the body in front of her was not Draco. Draco was behind her, holding her, sobbing.

Her hearing rushed back, and the blood pulsated through her head as she stared into the face of Lucius Malfoy, who had died polyjuiced as his son.

Confusion made her pull back.

"What have you done, my love?" Narcissa cried right before she buried her face in the robes that he wore when masquerading as Draco that were now slightly too tight and too short.

"We couldn't tell you. We couldn't tell anyone," Draco said devastatingly.

"I am so happy you are alive, Son. Never, ever doubt that." She asked sadly. She looked back at Draco and gave him a watery look. "Where did you even get the Polyjuice from?"

"Hermione's bag. There was just enough for two people for four hours."

"How did you even get near my bag?" Hermione asked.

"I didn't. My father, he saved Potter after Nagini bit him. That is when he took it,"

"Why switch at all? What was the point?"

"He and Snape felt that I should stand with the Dark Lord to have an opportunity to take him down if it arose. They did not know then how Nagini was to die,"

"When exactly did you switch?"

"Right before Nagini was killed. My father went to the Shack and I stayed on the field of battle."

"So, when I was talking to Harry, that was Lucius standing with Snape?"

"I guess so. I wasn't there, for sure. I was in the Forbidden forest waiting for the Dark Lord to show up after he announced a temporary cease-fire."

"You could have at least told  _me_ ," Narcissa cried.

"I'm sorry mother, it was for your safety. For my safety. For the integrity of the plan."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Harry said quietly, patting Narcissa compassionately on the arm.

Narcissa took a great shuddering breath and nodded. She was stroking Lucius's still face but now instead of utter tragedy, her face had a strange kind of sad acceptance.

"I always knew his living out the war was too much to ask. There were so many times after facing the Dark Lord's wand that I just knew he would leave me in the night. I prepared for it. We both did. He has been living on borrowed time for the last two years and we knew it well. Even if he had survived the war, he wouldn't be the man he once was. He was broken and desperate. But," she looked up into Draco's eyes, "The one thing that didn't change was how much he loved us. He loved you with every ounce of feeling he had, Draco. He really did,"

"I know mother," he said softly. "I knew it. He told me. He told me."

A burst of high shrill laughter broke up their small group. Draco's arm around Hermione's waist tightened as if he was afraid that he was going to lose her too. She looked up at Voldemort who was bound from the neck down and lying on his side as Ron and the Snatchers kept their wands trained on him.

"You can imprison me now, Potter, but there will come a day when you are dead, when all of you are dead, and my memory passes from fact into myth and some foolish sycophant who doesn't know the meaning of the word 'war' will free me and I will rise again. After all, I have all the time in the world,"

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Harry said.

Scabior and another snatcher grabbed Voldemort and in tandem with Ron and Mr. Weasley, the small group apparated away.

"Where are they taking him?" Draco asked Harry.

"To Azkaban,"

"Is that wise? The Dementors are clearly on their side,"

"According to Snape," Harry said sending a nod to Snape who stood stoically beside Narcissa who was still slumped over Lucius' body. "The Dementors have fled Azkaban but even if they hadn't, Dumbledore had told him that a special cell was built just to hold Tom Riddle or any other bearer of Horcruxes that are sentenced to death."

Snape nodded decisively, refusing to look around at the Order members that surrounded him. None of them moved to take him although they shifted uneasily.

"Snape and Draco Malfoy have been helping me take down Voldemort," Harry announced to the lingering crowd. Many nodded reluctantly. Anything Harry said would be taken as fact.

McGonagall was the first to step forward, thrusting her hand out for Snape to shake. "I'm sorry Severus, for doubting. But there is one thing I am curious about. How do you explain the death of Albus Dumbledore?"

"Think of it as a request from a desperate friend," Dumbledore's likeness called from the nearest intact painting.

"Albus?" McGonagall asked.

"Yes, Minerva?"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted to use my death in solidifying Severus' stance with Tom. We needed him to continue to be there, to spy for us, and Tom had begun to doubt. I was dying anyway,"

"Oh, Albus," Minerva breathed sadly.

Those Order members who had captured Death Eaters stood holding them, waiting for any direction that came from those seemingly in charge. It was Remus Lupin who stepped forward to direct them, though battling his own grief at the loss of his wife. The rest began filing back into the Great Hall, many carrying comrades who had fallen in the final wave. The wounded headed for Madame Pomfrey and yet others sat in groups chatting.

Narcissa stood and flicked her wand, making Lucius's body float next to her.

"Need any help?" Harry asked softly.

Narcissa shook her head at Harry then turned to Draco who had nearly dragged Hermione onto his lap. "I'm taking your Father home and I need some time to say goodbye. I don't know what you are planning to do or where you are planning to go, but I will understand if you don't want to come to the Manor right away. I will let you know when I am going to hold his funeral. And you," she said looking at Hermione, "welcome to the family,"

"Thank you," Hermione said softly.

"Please let me know when the funeral will be too, Narcissa," Harry said. She nodded and walked out of the door.

"He should be guarded all hours of the day," Snape said as he watched Narcissa leave. Snape didn't have to say who he meant.

"Ron will make sure of it. We had talked about it once, in the case we couldn't kill all the Horcruxes and by the lucky chance that he was captured first,"

"Like he said. He can afford to bide his time. He wasn't wrong when he said that he would be free someday,"

"What do you suggest we do?" Harry asked quietly.

"There has to be a way of disconnecting him from magic that doesn't include Dementors," Draco said. His voice was harsh, and his cheeks were tear-stained.

"There is one way," Dumbledore said slowly from the nearest portrait.

"And?" Snape asked arching his brow.

"A spell to tear his magic away from his body, much like tearing a soul into pieces. It will only work on his body, meaning if he dies and resurrects, his magic will be reinstated with his Horcrux. But the spell will likely drive him into madness,"

"As if he isn't already crazy enough," Draco mumbled into Hermione's hair. She snorted and leaned back into him.

It shamed her how relieved she was that it was Lucius who died and not Draco. After all, Lucius did help them out, even if it was only because of his love for Draco. And, more importantly, who would Harry's life debt transfer to? Narcissa or Draco? That, she supposed, was a conversation for another day.

"Without finding and destroying that Horcrux, there is no way to kill him. Our only option is to keep him locked up in the bowels of Azkaban," Harry said.

**HGHG**

Hours had passed since Draco watched as his father took the curse meant for Potter. He was devastated. As much as he resented his father and hated the position that he forced Draco into, he didn't want his father to die. Despite everything, he loved him, even though he had so many reasons not to.

Holding Hermione in his arms was the only thing holding him together and he sluggishly followed the conversation going on between his Godfather and Harry Potter about the Dark Lord and how shaky a thing it was to keep him locked away. So many things could happen. But their options were limited. As of now, he would be heavily guarded, and until they chose a method of magical castration, they would continue to be cautious.

Hermione shifted in his lap, interlocking their fingers as she moved to stand. He nearly panicked. Draco didn't want her to leave or to go far from him. Even if the Dark Lord was captured along with many other Death Eaters, he still feared losing her to a stray, unanticipated spell.

When she gained her feet, she tugged on their connected hands until Draco was standing too.

"We are going…" she gestured to elsewhere and Potter nodded, looking kind of green. "Unless you need us?"

Harry shook his head vigorously. "I think I'm going to find Ginny."

Hermione nodded and began walking to the ruined stairs but when she got to them, it was clear that the stairs would need at least some repair before they could be climbed. Hermione stood there, looking at them as if they had personally offended her.

"Where are you trying to go, Love?" Draco murmured in her ear.

"Gryffindor Common Room,"

"Would you like to see Slytherin digs instead?" he asked. She shrugged her shoulders and he led her down the slightly less damaged crumbling stairs. They picked their way through the debris until they arrived at a flat section of unblemished wall. The moment they got close enough, the secret door slid open, letting them in without a password.

The room was not quite cozy but not quite uninviting either. The leather furniture surrounded a massive fireplace that still had a fire burning in it. A large ornate 'S' decorated the mantle along with an intimidating portrait of Salazar Slytherin. The back of the largest couch was nearly pushed back against the back wall that was made entirely of glass, looking into the depths of the Black Lake. The water was cloudy and churning.

Draco unlaced his fingers from hers and turned her so that they were facing each other.

He ran his fingertips over her shoulder and arms, marveling that they both were alive now that the war was won. And if truth be told, they were both fairly unscathed.

"I almost can't believe that I lived," he muttered.

She balled her small hands and hit him on the arms over and over and over.

"I thought you had died!" she cried.

"I know," he murmured and pulled her into his chest though she resisted his comforting embrace. Draco had a feeling that she wanted to hit him some more. But he was tired and sore, and the memories of how it felt to be in his father's broken body made him ache. "I'm sorry,"

"I was so scared! Devastated!"

"I know!"

"You have a terrible habit of doing shit that I don't like without telling me!"

"I know,"

"I feel guilty for being so happy that you are not the one who died," she said in a much quieter voice.

"I feel guilty too. Had I not suggested to switch spots. Had I not told him about your purse and what I suspected you carried… maybe he would still be alive,"

"He saved Harry's life. Twice,"

"And yours," Draco said. "I did not miss that he pushed you out of the way first, before Potter. Had he got to Potter first, they would have been okay, but you would have been hit. He saved you,"

"He saved me," Hermione repeated. "I'm so confused about what to think of your father. He saved me, and Harry, and he even told me that I should have been brought into the magical world as a young baby. I think by saving Harry, he saved us all. But I know he mistreated Dobby. I know he did You-Know-Who's dirty work in the last war and in this one,"

"My father may have been sent on missions for a while after the Dark Lord's resurrection but after the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, he didn't. Not once. He was tortured every day since his release from Azkaban. By the end, I'm not sure if my father hadn't preferred Azkaban, Dementors and all. I'm not trying to defend him, but you should know the truth of things too."

"Harry survived,"

"Many people survived, and many died, on both sides,"

"Hold me," Hermione said. A single tear slid down her cheek and he wiped it away with his thumb.

"Gladly," he murmured before wrapping her in his arms and pulling her close. A great weight had been lifted off of his shoulders and he could now see his future with wonderful clarity. Hermione slid her arms around his waist and buried her face in his shoulder, holding him as tightly as he was holding her. He bent and kissed the top of her head before laying his cheek on her wild curls that had fully escaped her braid. "I will hold you forever if you let me,"


	24. The Best Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lateness of the chapter. I had things fall into my lap at the last moment that I had to attend to.
> 
> A huge thank you to CJRed who Alpha read this story.
> 
> This, I believe, is the penultimate chapter. That means there is just one more chapter… I don't know how to feel about that.
> 
> I am so grateful to all of you. You have made posting this story a wonderful and fulfilling endeavor. Your continued support and amazing reviews are the reason why I write and post in the Harry Potter fandom.

**Chapter Twenty-Four- The Best Christmas**

In the days that followed the final battle, rest was kept at bay with hot tea or coffee, and Pepper-up potions that Madame Pomfrey handed out like sweets. It was important in those hours after the battle to locate all of the fallen. For the snow continued to fall, threatening to bury them all until spring. And none of the fallen deserved the indignity of being found in the thawing weather. So, a great search was conducted. Teams of volunteers swept away the already significant snowfall to bring in their brothers in arms.

On Christmas Eve, the search had been called off by a grim Remus Lupin. They had found everyone they could. Not one of them voiced the terror that they felt at leaving a body to be left or a family that might have to live without the closure of having a body to bury. But after every single team came back twice without any bodies, Remus decided they could do no more while the snow continued to fall.

When the search had ended, Harry approached Hermione and Draco.

"There is no way to know what Voldemort made into a Horcrux," Harry said, tears of frustration gathering in his eyes. To come so close to have it all end, just to trip at the finish line…

"What if he didn't make any? What if he is bluffing?" Draco said.

"What if he isn't?" Harry replied. "We could play what if, all day. The problem is, how do we make this war end once and for all?"

No one had an answer.

"Maybe I could think this through better if I had some sleep," Draco growled, equally frustrated.

"Well, maybe that is exactly what we should do," Harry said. "After all, it was Voldemort who said that he had all the time in the world. A day or two won't make any difference,"

Hermione reached over and tangled her fingers with Harry's. He threw her a thankful glance. Draco, on the other hand, struggled to keep his jealousy tamped down. No matter how much he wished he could rip her hand out of Harry Potter's, he had to play nice.

"We'll be at Malfoy Manor then, Potter. If you need us… Owl," Draco said.

Harry snorted and pulled away from Hermione, turning away to head toward Ginny who was beckoning him tiredly. "Happy Christmas, Hermione. And you too, Malfoy,"

That was all the dismissal Draco needed to pull Hermione into his embrace and twist them into nothingness.

They landed on the wet stone walk and Draco felt free for the first time ever. Free to be whatever he wanted. Free to love Hermione. Free to enjoy his home. Free. Just free.

Draco squeezed Hermione's hand as he pulled her through the front door of Malfoy Manor. He could tell by the way she was stiffly walking that she was uncomfortable and with good reason. Until yesterday, the whole place had been crawling with Death Eaters and the Dark Lord himself.

"My mother assured me that there isn't anyone here other than her. And quite frankly the wards changed upon my father's death when the Manor and its estate reverted to me." Draco said. A whoosh of pent up breath escaped her and he softly chuckled.

Though it was clear that Hermione was looking around with large, bright eyes full of curiosity, Draco knew she could explore some other time. If she was as tired as he was, then he knew they both needed a shower and sleep. And, his mind unhelpfully supplied, if she would let him maybe they could explore more of what they found together in that alcove off of the Headmaster's office right before the battle truly started.

He pulled her to the Grand Staircase in the center of the foyer and began to climb, their steps muffled by the rich red runner under their feet. Hermione's hand slid along the walnut banister, marveling at the buttery wood. He snorted. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of hands had run over the wood over the years. It wasn't that much of a surprise at its richness. Was there?

Either way, they rose two stories before he pulled her into a lighted hallway.

Draco let go of her hand in favor of wrapping his arm around her shoulders, pulling her as close to his body as she could get and led her down the beautifully decorated hallway. Near the end, he stopped.

In front of him was a door. A door he knew better than any other in the whole mansion. It was his and had been since the day he was born. However, it had just occurred to him that it was no longer his rightful place. He sincerely hoped his mother hadn't moved out of the Master. That could come later when his father had finally been laid to rest. Or when he earned his newts and felt more like an adult.

He shook his head and pushed the door open.

Her snort of amusement made him smirk as he led her into the room. His room. Their room.

"It's so green," she said, wrinkling her nose. "I was really thinking you couldn't be this much of a walking cliché and yet…"

He laughed and walked to the bed and fell back on it, letting the down-filled heaps of blankets balloon up around him.

"Do you want the shower first?" Hermione asked in a slightly awkward voice.

He lifted his head off the bed and tried to smirk, but it came off as sleepy and lopsided. "If I wasn't so tired, I would say we could share it,"

Hermione blushed and smiled and shook her head as she walked into the bathroom and shut the door.

Draco used his toes to kick off his shoes and shimmied up the bed until his head was on the pillow. With quick hands, he loosened his belt and dragged his trousers down his legs, shedding his socks one at a time and dropping them on the floor next to the bed. Then he fumbled with his button down until the very end, wrenching the bloody shirt off as soon as possible. He flopped back on the bed and pulled the blankets over his chilled flesh and rolled to his side. When he was comfortable, he glanced at the closed door that Hermione disappeared through and smiled. He would wait and let her shower first, but until then, he would close his eyes. For a moment. Just to rest them, of course.

**HGHG**

The shower gave Hermione pause the moment after she walked through the doorway, marveling at the sight before her. Never, in her entire existence, had she seen anything like it. It was remarkable.

The whole room was filled with steam, a small brazier pedestal sat in the center with live coals and heated stones at its core. To the far right was a beautiful sunk-in tub that was filled to the brim and steaming, the lavender scent wafting over to her in small but concentrated doses.

In the back left of the room, it was raining, the steam of the hot water hitting the marble tiles under her feet.

And just to the left of her was a large glassed off room where the loo and powder room sat separately. On the long countertop, she could see some of Draco's hygiene items. Neat but right next to the sink for convenient use.

Hermione made her way to the glassed off room, shedding her clothes as she went, balling them up in her hands before dropping them on the counter next to the second marble sink basin that was obviously rarely used. If heaven had a bathroom, she thought, this would be an exact replica.

Once she was naked, she walked to where it was raining and stepped under it, closing her eyes in ecstasy as the hot water ratcheted up its pressure and kneaded the muscles in her shoulders and back.

Merlin, she could live here, she groaned to herself.

A soft pop startled her out of her growing bliss, and she looked wide-eyed at the House Elf that appeared there.

"Tinky will help mistress," she said in her high squeaky voice.

"That's very kind," Hermione began, "but I am fully capable of showering on my own,"

Tinky snorted and lifted an eyebrow, putting one hand on her small hip. "And where is mistress gettings her shampoo?"

Hermione looked around and sure enough, not one bathing product was in sight. She wrinkled her nose and crossed her arms over her breasts reflexively.

"What kinds would Mistress like?" The elf asked rolling her eyes.

"What do you have?"

"Lavender everything for Mistress. Master always muttered about how he missed your lavender scent. But I can gets mistress anything,"

"Whatever you have is fine,"

Tinky nodded and disappeared before popping back in and leaving several bottles.

"Anything else, Mistress?"

"No, Thanks," Hermione mumbled. Just like that, Tinky was gone, and Hermione was sure there was another eye roll as she did so. Not that it mattered. Hermione had mistakenly thought that the Elf intended to fully bathe her. Not just retrieving things to bathe with.

After scrubbing her hair and body, she lathered conditioner in her hair and twisted the mass of hair into a bun on the top of her head. Then, she walked to the tub and sunk in, sitting on the marble seat that ran midway up around the whole thing and laid her head back.

She wasn't sure how long she laid in the tub before she felt her neck start to cramp. Knowing she needed to get to the bed as soon as possible or collapse onto the floor, she ducked under the water and rinsed her conditioner out, running her fingers through the strands like a comb until she no longer felt any tangles. Exiting the tub, she made her way to the glass room that held dry towels, her clothes, and Draco's toothbrush.

The towel was fluffy and super absorbent and she wrapped the plush around her like a robe, tucking the end into the towel near her armpit. On the counter where she had placed her balled up, clothing was now a thin silver negligée, a new toothbrush, and other products that she was familiar with. She narrowed her eyes, wondering how the elves knew what products she had preferred, and those she did not.

Shrugging, she decided it was a fight for another day.

When she walked back into the bedroom, Draco was snoring softly from where he was buried in the copious number of blankets. She approached the bed with a snicker and the smile on her face softened as she looked at him.

Though he slept like one of the dead, he had a peaceful look on his face, and small dark pouches formed under his eyes. Wrinkle lines marred the smooth perfection of his forehead, and his lips were a bit chapped. Gently, she ran her fingers over his face and smiled wider as he nuzzled into her touch, leaving a sleepy kiss on them.

Hermione circled the bed and climbed in, glad that she had taken the time to dry her curls in the glass powder room that was miraculously without any humidity. She laid down on the pillow next to his and pulled the covers over her, reaching out for Draco. Just to make sure that this wasn't a dream or that she wasn't dead. She needed to feel him to be grounded and slid her hand over his waist, pulling herself as close to his back as humanly possible. It was nice, she decided sleepily, to be the big spoon.

She nuzzled her face into his back and sighed, warm and content before falling into a deep sleep.

**HGHG**

Draco woke up to the most delicious sensation of unbound breasts pressed into his side. Somehow in the night, Draco ended up on his back and Hermione laid her head on his chest. Her hand rested over his navel, and one of her legs was thrown over his left and pressed innocently into his morning erection. The most intense erection that he had ever had before, he was sure.

The hand that wasn't wrapped around her shoulder, ran up her smooth leg. The sensation was nearly too much and he was unable to help a soft groan or the bucking of his hips into her leg. Her body was so close. Sensual. He was wrapped in her glorious scent, and it drove him absolutely wild. Under his skin, his pulse pounded. All he had to do was roll her to her back and fit his body in between her sweet thighs.

Without another thought, that is exactly what he did. When he saw the silver silk bunched around her hips, he noticed that she wasn't wearing any knickers. He groaned again, louder this time, and grasped his twitching cock under his boxers, squeezing just hard enough to keep himself under control. He couldn't very well explode right then and there before they even started.

Taking a moment, he clenched his eyes shut just as tightly as his teeth were and began to count backward from one hundred. At sixty, he felt in better control of himself and opened his eyes, releasing his still hard and pulsating member.

Hermione was still asleep with one of her hands curled into a loose fist next to her face. He smiled, sitting on his legs, and he ran both of his hands up her bare legs, from ankle to hip. Her breathing changed at his touch and he smirked. Carefully, he set his hands on the bed, either side of her head and leaned down.

"Hermione," he whispered.

She groaned and he began the delightful task of waking her up by kissing her nose, her cheeks, her eyelids, her lips.

"Wake up, Love," he murmured as he kissed his way across her jaw.

"Draco?" she sighed, eyes fluttering open.

"Always," he murmured as his mouth took possession of her ear lobe. Her breath caught and her hands lifted to stroke his scarred back.

"Morning," she sighed again, arching her neck so that he could nibble on the sensitive skin at the cradle, relishing her gasp at the rasp of his unshaven face on her tender skin.

"Morning, Sweetheart," his voice was gravely and low in her ear and he couldn't help the shot of lust that went straight to his cock when she shivered underneath him.

Taking the small silver strap of her nightgown in his teeth, he tugged the material down her arm until it was hanging loosely at her side before doing the same with the other, taking great satisfaction in the gasp she made when his teeth closed around the material between her breasts. His rough cheeks skimmed her breasts, and he groaned loudly when he felt her erect nipple graze him. He would spend years tasting those luscious peaks, but not yet, he nearly choked, not yet.

Suddenly, he thought that he really must be a masochist for loving the sweet torture of short-term denial. But soon enough, the nighty was pooled on the floor somewhere across the room, and his lips closed over one of her nipples.

She tasted clean and salty and soft. His tongue caressed her nipple, flicking it, while he nibbled on the areole around its pebbled peak. Each nip or lick teased her into a heightened state of arousal, and he could smell the amazing scent of her. Lavender and female arousal.

Moving from one nipple to the other, he rolled the abandoned peak with his thumb and forefinger. Underneath him, Hermione moaned and arched her back, bringing his mouth impossibly closer to her body.

Then he kissed his way down her body, stopping for a short amount of time at her navel, exploring the dips and curves there. He worshipped her, his heart pounding faster the closer to her center that he got. It wasn't the first time he would taste her but fuck if it didn't feel like it was with the way his heart raced.

The moment his tongue delved into her glistening slit to tap against her swollen clit, Hermione's breath caught. He flicked his eyes up to her face. Her brows scrunched up, arching high with euphoria, her bottom lip horribly abused between her teeth.

He slid his hands over her thighs, pushing them wider, forcing her body to open before his eyes. Sinking back into her musk, he teased her, flicking her clit faster and faster until abandoning the needy bead in favor of circling her opening.

Hermione screamed in frustration and tugged on his hair. Draco couldn't help smirking, as her body clenched around his seeking tongue.

Finally, he decided to give her and her tugging hands what they wanted and slid his tongue from her needy quim to her engorged button. He sucked her little nub into his mouth, suckling greedily. Then he pulled back and laved her with the flat of his tongue.

She was riding his face for all she was worth, and he loved it. Every. Bloody. Second.

He was drowning. Not in the same way that he had back in sixth year. This was the type of drowning he would gladly take for the rest of his life. He was drowning in her scent. In her love. In her forgiveness. And he could fly if she wished it.

He was so hard, he pulsated against the satin duvet and flexed his hips, unable to bear another moment without friction.

Then Hermione went taut and threw back her head, his name on her lips.

"Draco," she screamed.

Pulling away from her sweet center, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and crawled up her body, smiling as she opened her arms for him, the sweetest smile on her lips. He leaned down and kissed those lips and her legs wrapped around him, pulling him closer, closer. The tip of his cock nudged against her slick netherlips and she tilted her hips just right. It was so right that he saw stars. It was the sweetest torture as he slid inside her grasping body slowly.

Her heels dug into his arse, pulling him in. Struggling to breathe properly, he hung his head, resting only when his forehead met her shoulder. He was tense, every single muscle in his back was tight, standing out against the marred skin of his back.

"I love the way you feel," she whispered in his hair and his cock pulsed. For a moment, he was sure he would blow his load right then. But he refused to have it all end like that, without even one thrust.

With that in mind, he pulled back and sank back inside in one smooth motion. Settling on his elbows, he thrust. Her supple body moved with him. Encouragement fell from her lips in a steady drip. Heady words that made him feel on top of the world.

There was no real way to describe the way it felt to have his cock encased in her velvet heat. Climax lay inches in front of him and he strained to reach it.

His hips shuddered out a broken rhythm. Lightening built in the base of his spine.

"I love you," he said through gritted teeth just as his balls began to tighten.

His whole body convulsed as ecstasy rushed through his brain and bright stars exploded behind his eyelids. Throwing his head back, he thrust for the last time, stilling as ropes of his release coated her sweet quim, rocking into her body until the final tremors of his bliss faded away into a haze of contentment.

Draco panted as he sat again on his haunches, pulling out, afraid to rest on her and crush her.

"That was wonderful," Hermione said happily, though lewdly spread still for his perusal. Not that she minded. And Draco was sure that the devilish look in her eye wasn't the product of his active imagination.

"Happy Christmas, Love," He said with a smile.

Hermione smiled wide. "Funny, isn't it? I completely forgot about Christmas,"

"Understandable," he muttered before reaching over her to the side table where he kept his wand.

He plucked the wand off the table and flicked his wrist, cleaning them both up, wordlessly. Hermione sat up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts into his chest. Draco slid his hands over her waist, running his palm over the silky-smooth skin.

"Happy Christmas," she whispered back, dropping a kiss on his neck.

**HGHG**

Was celebrating Christmas so soon after the final battle the ultimate disrespect? Hermione wondered, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

Moments ago, Draco had disappeared into that glorious bathroom alone despite his many attempts at luring her in with him. But Hermione knew she needed privacy. There were so many that they had lost. Not just in the Battle of Hogwarts but also over the course of the first war and second rise.

Good friends that had gone above and beyond for her. Kingsley… Hermione buried her face in her hands. She owed him so much better than she gave him. He deserved a woman who loved him the way that she loved Draco and it was at that moment, she knew that Kingsley would always rest a little bit in her heart. Not as Draco was, of course. Draco turned out to be everything, everything she could have hoped for. But a small little piece of her would always be grateful for Kingsley’s care of her. And she wasn’t sure if her guilt over being flippant would leave her. The world lost a wonderful man when Kingsley fell in the first wave.

Tonks fell too and guilt stronger than even for Kingsley rose in her chest. Tonks just gave birth to Teddy. Her death was just one more example of how the war tore families apart.

Struggling to pull herself out of her depressive thoughts, she thought of Ron. How unexpected his role turned out to be? The Snatchers were notoriously dark, siding with the Death Eaters who allowed them to utilize their oftentimes brutal tracking talents. It was this very profession that had made the more talented of the bunch rather wealthy. And yet, in the end, they rallied around Ron, the man who killed Fenrir Greyback. With his bare hands. Who would have thought?

The Weasley's themselves made it out of the war pretty untouched. Not one of them was killed. It was truly a miracle, she thought. Statistically at least one of them should have died and another should have suffered a terrible wound.

Many of her classmates who had stayed to fight were not as lucky. Draco was the one to find Lavender. She was frozen in the snow, her eyes staring and glassy eyed at the grey sky. There hadn't been a mark on her. However, she was one of the first to be autopsied. She died not of enemy fire but of the elements. One of the first casualties of the sold and snow.

A knock at the door startled Hermione out of her thoughts and until that moment hadn't realized that hot tears slid down her cheek.

"Who is it?" Hermione asked, voice rough.

"Narcissa," the soft sound of Narcissa's voice floated through the door.

"Come in,"

"Are you okay?" Narcissa asked. She was as beautiful as any woman that Hermione had ever seen but her brow was furrowed, and grief etched fine lines into her delicate skin.

Hermione nodded. The war truly had touched them all.

Narcissa gave her a wan smile and sat on the foot of the bed. "Silly question, I know,"

"Can I help you?" Hermione didn't want to sound abrupt, but the only thing between them was Draco's blankets. She winced as she spotted her silver negligee all the way across the room.

"I want you to know, Hermione, that whatever our familial stance once was, it's not anymore."

"Lucius said I was an anomaly. The exception. I can't be sure, but it felt like he was giving his approval that I married his son,"

Narcissa's eyes filled with tears at the mention of her dead husband. "Don't mistake my husband for a good man, Hermione. Merlin knows he was full of flaws and prejudice, even until the moment he died. Had Draco married a Muggleborn that was not you, I doubt he would have allowed it. He would have killed you if he didn't find you worthy to marry our son."

"Maybe I will just consider what he said a compliment," Hermione grimaced.

"As well you should," Narcissa nodded and stood, brushing down her beautiful robes. "By the way, Happy Christmas! I hope it is the first of many, each one happier than the last."

"Thank you," Hermione said softly. "And Happy Christmas to you too,"

Narcissa sighed and looked at the closed bathroom door. "Would you tell Draco that I will be spending the day in the Crypts? I will see you both for Christmas dinner."

"Okay,"

"Oh, and," Narcissa said as she walked away and grasped the doorframe. "I've invited Harry Potter to dinner tonight. It's only right to invite the new bride's family,"

Tears welled in Hermione's eyes again and unable to hold back her heartfelt gratitude, she said, "Thank you,"

**HGHG**

Draco sat with bad grace at the dinner table, staring daggers at the smug face of Harry Potter, whose bloody hands massaged Hermione's bare shoulders as she turned in her seat to talk to Pansy. The girls were getting on better than Draco expected, true, but there was still something adversarial between them. Much like there was between him and Potter. The fucking git knew exactly what he was doing, touching Draco's wife with wandering fingers. Potter's taunting smile was all he needed to see to know the truth of it. If it hadn't been for Theo, who sat right next to him, he would have leaped across the table and punched that smug grin off his bloody face.

However, that would have brought down Hermione's wrath and his mother's cold and cutting eyes. Avoiding that whole mess was the wisest course of action. And he knew that. He did. But his blood boiled just under the surface. And Potter fucking knew it, too.

Potter's grin grew wider as he draped his arm over Hermione's shoulder.

Fucking Bastard.

"Do you have any idea what the Dark Lord could have possibly turned into a Horcrux?" Theo asked innocently, trying to steer the conversation away from Potter's inevitable death at Draco's very willing hands.

"I still don't think he made one," Draco said grumpily, still holding Potter's stare.

Hermione and Pansy dropped their own conversation to join the newer, heavier subject. "You know," Hermione said, tapping her lip. "What if he did create it out of something significant. He only said that we wouldn't trace it back to him. What if it can be traced to someone else,"

"What? Like Dumbledore and his tomb?" Theo snarked, rolling his eyes. But Hermione and Harry both dropped their cutlery onto their plates at nearly the same time. Both wearing horrified expressions. Theo brought up his hands. "I wasn't being serious."

"What is the one thing we wouldn't ever destroy?" Harry choked.

Hermione closed her eyes and answered. "Dumbledore's memorial."

"What if you are wrong?" Theo asked horrified.

"We will know," Draco said grimly. "Once touched by the fucking things, you never forget their taint. But even I may not be able to identify a newly created Horcrux with one hundred percent accuracy,"

Understanding dawned on Hermione's face. "But Harry and I, who have worn one and kept it close, might not face those same hurdles,"

"There is only one way to tell," Narcissa said.

Harry rose and Hermione followed, her sad eyes beckoned to Draco. At that moment he forgot his animosity and jealousy and could have flipped the table just to get to her quicker. However, he did none of those things. He calmly stood, walked around the table, and held out his hand for Hermione to take. His heart stuttered in his chest as she placed her hand in his without one ounce of hesitation. He doubted that he would ever get used to her faith in him.

Nodding at Potter, he pulled Hermione out of the room, conjuring heavy cloaks as they walked. The rustling grew behind them and he knew the rest of the party followed.

They would end this. Today. Christmas Day.

Once outside, Hermione flipped the switch and pulled him into her, smirking as she pulled them both into the breathless squeeze of apparition. Several pops heralded the other people in their party as the group surrounded Albus Dumbledore's tomb.

The snow crunched under their feet as they approached the white marble enclosure. Their breath froze and floated around them, but no one was concentrating on the cold.

Hermione reached out to run her fingers over the smooth stone and trembled, looking sick. Potter, watching her face, slapped his hand on the stone hoping that he would feel something else with his own hand. But the moment his palm connected with the marble, the look on his face confirmed their darkest suspicions.

"Shifty fucker," Theo said, wrinkling his nose and looking away. Pansy sidled up next to him and buried her face in his cloaked arm.

"Who's going to do it?" choked Hermione.

"Me. I'll do it," Narcissa said behind them. "If anyone deserves to carry the weight of desecrating Dumbledore's grave, it is me,"

"Mother," Draco said as he shook his head.

"Enough," Narcissa commanded. "I really don't see how you can stop me,"

"You don't have to do this," Harry said, lifting his chin. The sadness in his eyes belayed the fact that he really, really didn't want to destroy this final Horcrux. And yet the alternative was untenable.

Narcissa lifted her wand and pointed the thin wood at the marble plinth before calmly saying, "Move."

She gave them only a handful of breaths before Fiendfyre was rushing from her wand-tip.

As if a master, she commanded the demonic fire to rage as it fed upon the final soul shard that survived embedded in the marble sarcophagus in which Albus Dumbledore rested. She let it rage and reign until the marble was nothing more than liquified rock and debris before recalling her spell and ending it.

The silence on the grounds of Hogwarts was deafening.

It was over. The Horcruxes were truly gone. Destroyed.

**HGHG**

Draco stood inside the small cell in Azkaban that held Tom Riddle, looking around at the space that had been spelled to look like his father's office.

The Dark Lord was clearly mad, rambling and laughing, his sentences running together without sense. Time was nonexistent. Draco had turned into a young Lucius in his eyes.

"We will create the most incredible world, Lucius, all you have to do is take my mark. Not that you could refuse. Your father ensured that." Tom said with a maniacal gleam in his red eyes.

"Of course," Draco said, handing Tom Riddle a small crystal tumbler. "A Christmas toast, My Lord,"

Tom Riddle threw back the best Firewhiskey the Malfoy's had in their cellar, not even taking the time to appreciate the aged liquor. Draco downed his, too, and let the crystal drop to the stone floor, shattering almost at the same time that the Dark Lord began to foam at the mouth.

Draco turned on his booted heel and walked out of the cell, not even pausing when Tom's heavy body crashed to the floor. The guard behind him patted his shoulder on the way out and Draco nodded back.

The Dark Lord was finally dead.


	25. Eighth Year

**Chapter Twenty-Five- Eighth Year**

_Hermione_

The mid-December rays of the enchanted ceiling glittered off the glass goblets on each of the four tables in the Great Hall. A new year. A new start. A new regime.

Easy banter filled the air- a lighter atmosphere despite the heavy losses of the previous year. Students sat scattered among the scarred tables, houses intermixing for the first time in living memory. Ravenclaws sat with Hufflepuffs, Gryffindors with Slytherins, and any and every combination in between. Though there were many students missing, the pall of fear that had hung over them for years had dissipated. But somehow, despite the endless funerals of the last six months, people were again smiling. Even if the sadness still tinted their world, there was healing. There was relief and hope and excitement for a newer, better world.

Term started in September, right on time, and it felt as if Hermione never missed a day of classes, even if an entire year  _had_  elapsed in between. Rebuilding after the battle took longer than anticipated and no one returned to classes after the final battle. For the first time, Hogwarts was closed from Christmas to the start of a new year in September. But with many volunteers, the school was repaired and ready in plenty of time.

Earlier that morning, Hermione settled into the Gryffindor table. She was primed and ready, waiting. She watched the massive doors like a hawk.

"Morning, Hermione," Harry said, as he lowered himself gracefully onto the bench opposite. Right in her direct sight. She narrowed her eyes at him and leaned toward Neville to see around him. He was annoying her on purpose. She just knew it.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed," Ron sing-songed as he sat next to Harry. Again, in her way.

"Gah!" she said, waving away the two boys, and slid further down the bench, pushing poor Neville into the lap of a pretty sixth year Hufflepuff to have a clear view of the entrance.

They snickered and began eating.

"Ready for the match today, Harry?" Ron asked while shoveling potatoes in his mouth. Since coming back to Hogwarts, Ron bowed out of the Quidditch team with good grace. It was really the glory and attention he had sought, and he had more than enough attention these days as a war hero. Although, he did enjoy playing Quidditch for fun. Matches, not so much.

"We are going to wipe the floor with Slytherin," Harry boasted with a huge smile.

Hermione snorted, still staring at the doors.

"Who are you going to root for, Hermione?" Ginny asked curiously as she took another bite of egg.

"Gryffindor. Obviously," Harry said immediately.

"If you say so," Hermione said in a trilling laugh.

Then the doors opened, and the biggest smile transformed her face. Her heart raced and she pressed her knees together in automatic response. Hermione sat there breathless.

Draco Malfoy, in full Quidditch gear, walked through the doors, laughing at something that Theo said. His shoulders were broad, and his body toned, all the late nights at quidditch practice carving their mark on his body. His blond hair had grown and tickled the back of his neck, pushed back and mussed as if he had run his fingers through it. Draco Malfoy was beautiful, and Hermione couldn't tear away her stare. She watched with bated breath as the two boys made their way to the Slytherin table. Just before he sat down, he caught Hermione's stare and winked. As if he knew the effect that he had on her. As if he knew from the moment that he walked into the Great Hall that she would be watching.

She blushed, looked away then quickly back, rolling her bottom lip between her teeth, catching the tender flesh captive.

His eyes darkened as they followed the path of her abused lip and his smile turned feral, but still, he stayed seated next to Theo. However, his eyes never left her, not even when Theo began elbowing him in the side.

"Ugh," Harry said wrinkling his nose.

"Shut it, Potter," Hermione said. Ron snickered louder and Harry stabbed his eggs.

"So, you  _are_  going to cheer for Slytherin?" Ginny asked again. She tried to come off as nonchalant, but Hermione could see right through her. It was curiosity more than judgment that sat on her face and Hermione wouldn't begrudge her friend the information.

"I'm cheering for Draco," Hermione confirmed. "But I also am cheering for Harry,"

"You can't cheer for both teams, Hermione. That is just mental," Harry sputtered.

"I can root for whoever or whichever team I want," Hermione said belligerently.

Then Hermione's attention was once again dragged to the Slytherin table as Draco- who had touched nothing on his plate that Theo piled on- rose and sauntered over to the Gryffindor table. He kept his eyes on Hermione as he rounded the end and slid onto the bench between Hermione and Ginny.

"Morning, Love," He murmured into her ear, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her close.

The blush on Hermione's face deepened but she leaned into her once nemesis and placed a chaste kiss to his cheek. "Morning,"

His other hand quested under the table, rubbing the exposed skin of her knee, pushing his palm just slightly up her leg. Not enough to be indecent, just enough to get her heart pounding and force the memories of the last several months in Malfoy Manor to the forefront of her mind. Those sleepless nights in his bed. Their sweaty bodies gliding against each other. Sexy shower touching that got no one clean.

"Need I remind you two of the agreement you made with me at the beginning of the year?" Headmistress McGonagall asked sharply from behind them. Hermione startled and looked up in confusion. Hadn't she just been sitting at the head table buried behind the Daily Prophet?

Draco took back the hand caressing her knee, but from the way he stiffened and the way his arm tightened around her, she could tell he was thinking of making a stand. At the last minute, he seemed to deflate. Just a little.

"Of course not. And we haven't broken our word to you. Neither will we," Draco said through gritted teeth and a smile.

McGonagall's lips pursed and her eyes narrowed. "Make sure you don't,"

Draco rolled his eyes as she walked away and if Hermione thought her blush was bad before, it was positively flaming now.

Harry walked around the table and sat on Hermione's other side, making Neville slide down even more. Neville seemingly had enough and with a disgusted growl abandoned Gryffindor for Ravenclaw. Harry threw his arm around Hermione, knocking Draco's arm off her shoulder. With an innocent face, he said, "just helping you both stay out of trouble,"

Hermione's nose flared like an angry dragon and she glared at her best friend, shrugging his arm off of her. "We talked about this Harry. Stay out of it and don't touch me as if we are dating."

Draco leaned back and caught Harry's eyes and smirked as he slowly slipped his arm back around Hermione's shoulders.

"Whatever," Harry said with bad grace. Then he took a deep breath and sighed, rising from the table. His teammates rose with him as if they had been waiting all along for his signal. "See you at the Pitch, Malfoy,"

Draco threw Harry a nod and filched a piece of toast from Hermione's plate. "Are you going to sit with Theo?"

Hermione snorted and took the last bite of toast in her own hand. "Sorry. I already said I would sit with Ron and Luna,"

Draco nodded and slid the Slytherin scarf off of his neck and wrapped it around Hermione's, running his fingers lightly over her collarbone. "Wish me luck,"

"Good Luck," she whispered, fingering the green and silver fringe, staring him in the eye. She was so hot, she thought she would combust.

Draco leaned in, eyes stuck on her lips, before looking quickly around the Great Hall. When it was clear the head table was mostly abandoned and none of the remaining professors were looking their way, he leaned in to capture her lips. As far as kisses went, this one was quite sweet. Mindful of their audience of first years at the opposite end of the table, it was just a press of lips, but it made Hermione's heart flutter in her chest and her lips tingle with need under his. It didn't matter that they had been married a year or that they had spent the summer learning each other's bodies. Their relationship felt new and exciting. Maybe it was because their whirlwind courtship had been overcast with the war, disturbed by the weight of impending doom. Maybe it was because of all the people they lost along the way. Maybe it was because they never got to just be dating teenagers.

Either way, Hermione couldn't help her low moan or the heat that quickly gathered at her center.

"You are going to be the death of me," Draco panted quietly.

Hermione laughed. "I think it is the other way around,"

"The moment I get you home and into bed for Christmas, I am not going to let you out until we are forced back on the Hogwarts Express," He growled.

Hermione's breath caught and she looked down at his hand that once again found the skin of her knee. He didn't try to slide his palm further up her thighs or take any extra liberties but that was almost better. The excitement between them was building and building and building. She had no doubt that he meant every word he said. And she would be a liar if she didn't admit to wanting exactly the Christmas he outlined.

"If you don't leave soon, you will miss the match," Hermione whispered.

"Fuck the match,"

She snorted and rose from the bench, ignoring the frustrated look on Draco's face and the way he ran his fingers through his blond hair. She reached for his hand and tangled her fingers in his, pulling him with her.

Theo met them by the door with a wry smile and Draco's broom. The rest of the Slytherin team fell into step behind the three of them as they made their way out of the castle and down to the pitch.

_Draco_

It was a little more than two weeks until Christmas and snow swirled outside as the Hogwarts express barreled down the tracks, making its yearly Christmas trek to London with a full load of students. Usually, they would have spent another week and a half at Hogwarts, but families wanted their children home longer this year, the holiday was no longer the joyous occasion it once was. Not with all of the losses being so new. However, despite that, the Christmas spirit had pervaded nearly every corner of the train as students loudly celebrated the end of term and the freedom of the Holidays with loud and often obnoxious renditions of popular carols.

Draco lounged against the door to an empty car, picking nonexistent lint off of his expensive robes.

"Alright there, Mate?" Theo asked as he glanced into each car he passed, just as he was supposed to, being head boy and all.

"I'm good,"

"And you are standing out here because…?"

Draco gave him a pointed stare.

"Right. You are waiting for Hermione," Theo rolled his eyes but couldn't help the smile that pulled at his lips. His bright white teeth sparkled, either from the intensity of his amusement or the floating lights. Draco really couldn't say.

"Obviously," Draco said, rolling his eyes.

"Good luck," Theo snickered, turned around, and began to whistle.

Draco's heart pounded in his chest as a compartment door down the line slid open and Hermione walked out. She was so beautiful, it made him ache. She was everything good and beautiful and right, and she was all his. Until death, do they part.

He took a deep breath and reveled in the lavender and honey scent that proceeded her. His erection was steel and immediate. He couldn't stop his reaction to her if he tried. Although living like a monk for the last several months had been a special sort of torture. McGonagall was a woman of her word. She once told him that she would make him regret his part in Albus Dumbledore's death and she had. She was quite creative. The promise that she extracted from Hermione and himself at the beginning of the year was every bit of the punishment her eyes had promised in that year Snape was the Headmaster.

For the children, she had said. Even though Hermione was married to him. Even though neither of them were virgins any longer. Even though he had made Hermione scream in ecstasy in Abandoned classroom three in their sixth year. Not that McGonagall knew that, per se. And even though McGonagall knew that he knew how to be discreet, none of that mattered.

Nothing more than run of the mill, innocent touches and chaste kisses on the cheeks were permitted. And they both agreed. Was there any real way to refuse when Hermione's Head Girl status was held over them?

And he had been so good, toeing the line.

But now… now, the temptation of having her was whispering devilishly in his ear. He could have gone into the compartment and rode with Pansy while Theo and Hermione patrolled the train. He could have. But the wild side of his brain taunted him, whispering in his ear.  _McGonagall will never know._

His Slytherin brain ramped into high gear and within moments, he had concocted the most delicious scheme. Which was the entire reason he was now leaning against an empty compartment, watching his wife as she sashayed down the hallway, pretending that she wasn't as hyper-aware of him as he was of her.

"Everything okay?" Hermione asked as she approached him, her head canted in question.

"There is something you need to see," He murmured and gestured to the compartment behind him.

"Oh?" she asked and stood on her tiptoes to look over his shoulder and through the glass window but was unable to see a thing. Exactly as he intended. "What is it?"

Draco opened the compartment and waved her in. She passed him, sliding her delectable body against his, and looked around in bewilderment, seeing nothing.

"I don't see anything,"

Behind her, the compartment door snapped shut, and the lock clicked audibly into place. The windows of the door and those that overlooked the moving landscape slowly frosted. Hermione twirled around in surprise.

Draco leisurely tucked his wand into an inner pocket of his robe and shrugged the heavy material off, tossing the garment onto the seat. "That's because you weren't looking at me,"

Hermione raised a single brow and bit her lip, watching avidly as Draco slowly unbuttoned his white Oxford. Her breath caught as his shirt gaped open and Draco smirked wider knowing the sight of his toned torso was a particular weakness of hers.

"And what am I looking for?" Hermione asked in a strangled voice when he reached for his belt and then the placket of his trousers.

"I'm in pain, Love. I've been in pain for months. I need you,"

Her eyes softened and her tongue flicked out to wet her suddenly dry lips. "I need you too,"

His shirt joined his robes and his belt hit the floor with a thud. His pants followed closely behind, and he stood before her in all of his naked glory. The way her eyes blazed a trail of sizzling lightning down his body only made his already excited body, even more so.

Draco reached for her and ran his hands over her clothed curves, unable to help the groan that slipped from between his parted lips. This was the perfect ending to his perfect week. First, Slytherin crushed Gryffindor even if Potter did catch the snitch. Now he had the only woman he would ever love as passionately in his arms. Heaven wouldn't be as sweet.

_Hermione_

Hermione's heart raced as her fingertips traced the outline of Draco's muscular chest, stopping once or twice to caress his flat nipples. The way he rippled under her soft caress was everything.

Draco lifted her and laid her back on the seat, finally closing the distance between them and captured her lips. She was drowning in him, that intoxicating musk wrapping around her, holding her captive. Licking at the seam of her lips, he wordlessly begged entrance and eagerly she opened for him, sucking on his tongue the moment he invaded her mouth.

His husky moan was every bit an aphrodisiac as oysters and strawberries were purported to be, she decided, wrapping her legs around his naked hips.

She trembled as he slid his hand up under her skirt, palm smoothing over her thighs, fingers hooking over the elastic of her knickers. Drawing the lace down her legs, he sat on his knees, reluctantly drawing away. Hermione made a small sound of protest, snapping his gaze to her face, a cocky smirk on his lips.

Then he tossed the filmy green knickers to the pile of clothes on the other bench and came back in to feast on her lips. His hips rocked into her, his hard cock was trapped between them, rubbing up and down her wet slit with each grind of his pelvis.

"Unbutton the top three buttons," He murmured as he left her lips to suck and nip her neck.

With shaking hands, she struggled to pop the buttons, her mind distracted by the rasp of facial hair as he brushed against her neck. The moment the buttons were undone, he buried his face in her cleavage, nipping at the soft pillowy flesh. Hermione wrapped her arms around his shoulders and tangled the fingers of one hand in the fine hair at the nape of his neck, enjoying the soft growl and harder buck of his hips in response.

Reaching between their bodies, Draco fisted his cock, rubbing the tip against her needy clit until she couldn't stand another moment of the too slow rubbing. She needed him to go just a little faster. Just a little faster and she would shatter in his arms.

But instead of giving her body what it so desperately craved, he lined himself up at her entrance and pushed in, luxuriating in the tightening silk. Her gasp was punctuated by the quickening slap of flesh on flesh as he thrust increasingly faster, chasing after the sweet release that he could only find with her. Hermione threw her head back and arched, rolling her hips for the glorious rubbing her clit received on his groin.

Just as she was rushing headlong into bliss, he stopped and pulled out.

"On your knees," he growled.

Hermione reached up and pulled his face to hers and licked his lips, teasing him before finally turning over.

She heard his harsh breathing and smirked, looking back at him over her shoulder. He pushed her skirt over her hips and lined himself up, both hands holding onto her hips for dear life. He sunk to the hilt with the first flex and his head fell back, his mouth open with euphoria.

There was just something about this position that drove her wild. He hit something deep within her, something that made her eyes roll into the back of her head. He brought her higher and higher. And suddenly his arm reached around her hips, his fingers moving over her clit with precision. Draco had learned her body so well. So bloody well. He was a master musician, strumming her body perfectly. A virtuoso who knew her body as well as his own, each movement a flood of pleasure.

Her thighs trembled. Her abdomen clenched. Gasping and moaning in time to his thrusts, she exploded, climaxing so hard that she saw stars. Her body convulsed and spasmed around him and he rode her hard through it, a string of curses falling from his gritted teeth.

Moments later, his thrusts stuttered and stilled. "Bloody fuck," he groaned as he slowly rocked with each new spasm to his completion, his seed filling her lithe body.

"I've missed this," Hermione breathed.

Draco laughed and sat on the seat, pulling her onto his lap, despite his release trickling out of her body. He nuzzled his face into her hair, inhaling the smell of her. "Me too. I thought my balls were going to be bruised until the end of time."

"Is that a real thing? Blue balls?"

"Yes." He said tightly, clearly unwilling to elaborate but she was curious. Although she spent that last several months in unfulfilled arousal and frustrated to the max, she wasn't in pain. However, it seemed to be different for him.

"Six months. Six more months. Then I am all yours."

"You say that like six months is a short time,"

"Isn't it?"

He groaned. "No,"

When the train began to slow, they cleaned up and redressed, eager to disembark and return home. The second they were through the front doors of Malfoy Manor, they froze, stopping to look around and appreciate what Narcissa had done for them.

Christmas hit the Manor like a bomb. Narcissa had the house decked out like Buckingham Palace, each room more elaborate than the last.

Fairies twinkled around each garland and wreath. Swags hung heavy with holly; berries attached. Mistletoe grew over every doorway, entrapping the young lovers consistently. Not that either of them complained. Narcissa did all of this for the newly married couple, knowing that coming home to an empty house would have been depressing. She had decided after Lucius's death to move into the Dowager House, siting the many memories of Lucius that haunted each room she walked into. Her gift to Draco and Hermione had been creating a homey, loving atmosphere for them to come home to.

To be fair, she had warned them at the start of term when she watched them walk out of the protection of Malfoy Manor to apparate to King's Cross Station that she was going to have the Manor fully decorated. She had not lied.

Hermione looked around with a tad bit of awe. Narcissa had really outdone herself decorating for the holidays. But it was tastefully done. Classy. And not for the first time since Hermione moved into the Manor, she marveled at what her life had become.

Narcissa, though a smidge offish, was always, always kind. They would never be bosom buddies. Never have the closeness she might have had with a pureblood bride. But that was okay. Empires weren't built overnight and as long as Narcissa tried, Hermione would too.

Draco was unquestionably the man of her dreams. Each moment with him was more wonderful than the last. But the one thing that made her fall for him even harder than she already had was the fact that he tried so damn hard. Constantly, he was reaching out to those in need, overcoming the lies of his upbringing. He went to every funeral. Every single one. He wanted to make up for all the things wrong he had done, coerced or not, didn't seem to matter to him. He wanted to be a good man and strove for it.

"Sweetheart, have you seen my Quidditch gloves?" Draco asked, walking into their personal sitting room where Hermione sat drinking her honey laden tea. "I've looked in my trunk and I can't find them anywhere."

"Why do you think I would know if you don't?" she asked, a hint of amusement pulling up the corners of her mouth.

He settled his hands over his hips and sighed. "Where did I drop them this time?"

"The stairs leading out of the Slytherin Dorms. Pansy sent a first-year to me,"

"Of course she did," he said wryly. "because she could have just sent a firsty to give them to me. But she likes giving you ammunition."

Hermione snorted and waved her hand. "They are in my beaded bag. Be warned, it's a mess in there."

Hermione lifted the teacup and closed her eyes, luxuriating in the early morning ambrosia.

"Uh, Hermione?"

"Yeah?" she called, eyes still firmly closed.

"What's this?" Draco asked.

She popped open her eyes and looked at the leather book held up in his hand. Scrunching her brow, she reached for it and flipped it open.

_This journal is the property of Ianthe Belby- Documenting Experimental Amortentia and its side effects._

"Oh! Oh! Oh my…" She said standing up quickly flipping through the journal. "That bastard. That meddling but only in a roundabout way bastard!"

"What is it? What's wrong?" Draco asked

"He must have known that you repressed my memories. But why give it to me then? I only thought it was more information about Merope. But now… Oh ho ho! It makes so much sense now!"

"Hermione?"

"Albus Fucking Dumbledore," She cussed.

Draco's eyes widened but the question was still there, hanging between them.

"Last Christmas, Dumbledore sent this to me, saying that it may be useful to me. I spent quite a bit of time reading it, then forgetting it. Basically, it details the trials of Amortentia. But not just any Amortentia. The exact kind that brought you to me," she finished.

His brows rose into his hair and he took the book and began flipping through. "So was it still in our system, even after the antidote and time?"

"Belby claims that those with a romantic connection have a heightened awareness of feeling for the person they like. Not because the potion was still in our systems, but it is more like a suggestion that you can't get out of your mind. A song you can't stop singing. She claims those that didn't have a connection did not suffer these effects. How much more potent it was because I was the first person you saw after being dosed; I couldn't say."

"So you are telling me that Dumbledore knew and did nothing," Draco said. "No. Not nothing. He let us explore those feelings without keeping you from me. What if he was trying to save me by encouraging my connection with you?"

"Why send it after I had my memories repressed?"

"Because he is a romantic. Wanted to give me another chance to win you over, I'm sure of it."

"You have one hell of an opinion of Albus Dumbledore," Hermione said.

Draco reached out for her and slid his arms around her waist, pulling her close and burying his face in her neck. "Does it matter why? Does the how matter? No. Only two facts matter. One, our feelings for each other are real and two, without the Amortentia I wouldn't have you. I would have never gathered the courage to defy my father or the Dark Lord. I would have done exactly as I was told. I would have never switched sides during the war. I thank Merlin for that vial of Amortentia every day, for bringing you to me. It changed the entire course of my life in the best possible way."

_Draco_

Two more weeks passed, and Christmas morning dawned brightly over the pine trees at the edge of the Malfoy property line. Hermione and Draco were wrapped around each other, the sheets tangled with their limbs, their bare bodies glistening with the morning light. Draco was the first to blink open his eyes, a soft smile on his lips as he traced Hermione's bottom lip with his thumb.

"Happy Christmas, Love,"

"Happy Christmas," she mumbled back, burrowing into Draco's shoulder and pressing her naked body against his side.

"Happy Christmas to me," he groaned as her small hand reached between them and grabbed the base of his hard cock, slowly rubbing her thumb over his slit, spreading the salty pre-come around his head.

"Mmmmm," Hermione hummed in agreement, a wicked look in her eye. She shimmied down until she was settled between his muscular thighs and her lips were poised and open, ready to take him whole.

The sight alone was something Draco knew he would never forget. She was so beautiful with her mouth wrapped around his cock. However, she barely made one pass before she was up and off the bed, running to the bathroom, and retched into the toilet.

"Are you okay?" Draco asked, rushing into the bathroom behind her and gathering all of her wild curls out of her face.

"I wanted to wait and tell you," she breathed, setting her forehead on her arm which was slung across the toilet seat.

"Wait to tell me what?" he asked softly, rubbing her back in easy, firm strokes.

"I'm pregnant,"

Silence.

"What?" He said.

"I'm pregnant," Hermione calmly repeated.

"I heard you the first time," he said, sounding extremely winded as if he spent the last several hours in a grueling Quidditch training session. "How? When?"

Hermione snorted weakly. "The Hogwarts Express,"

"I'm going to be a father?" he asked and began violently trembling. "I don't know if that is a good idea,"

"It's a little too fucking late for regrets, Draco!"

"No, that isn't what I meant. I don't regret anything. I just… What if I become like my father?" he whispered.

Hermione wiped her mouth and reached out for Draco pulling him close until their foreheads were touching. "You will be an amazing father, Draco. There are many ways that you will never be like your father. But a least in one way, I hope you are."

"What way?"

"He loved you so much that he died protecting me. For you. For your happiness."

Tears burned his eyes and he squeezed his lids shut in an effort to stuff them back, but it was too late. His breathing was ragged, and salty tears of joy and sadness intermingled on his cheeks.

"I'm going to be a father,"

"In August,"

A whoosh of air left his lungs and he smiled, wiping at the tear tracks. "August? You fantastic, amazing woman." He ran shaking fingers over her flat tummy, knowing that the silly grin that grew on his face was layered with male pride. "I love you so, so much, Hermione Malfoy,"

"Draco," she said, smiling. She leaned in, intending on rewarding him with a sweet kiss only to turn and vomit spectacularly in the loo.

He resumed rubbing her back, keeping a tight hold on her hair to keep it out of the way. A huge smile on his face. He was going to be a father.

_Snape_

How in hell they found him in Leeds, Snape had no idea. One minute he was lounging in his chair, Potions Academia on his lap. The next, he was at the front door staring down the blond little shit whose wellbeing was still tied to his own from a once necessary unbreakable vow.

Snape growled. "How the fuck did you get past my wards?"

"Lovely see you too, Godfather," Draco Malfoy smirked. "Are you going to invite me in?"

"Bloody hell," Snape grumbled, turning abruptly on his heel, leaving the door open. He was hoping that without an express invitation, Draco would bugger off. But as Snape looked back over his shoulder, he saw his godson enter his home and softly close the door. "Well?"

"I have a son," Draco said proudly. "Scorpius,"

"Wonderful, another Malfoy brat. The world is complete,"

Draco snorted and collapsed onto Snape's couch sans invitation. He laid his head back, a big stupid smile on his face. "I know I wasn't such an energetic child at his age,"

"HA! You ran both of your parent's ragged," Snape griped. "You were the worst child to watch,"

"Worse than Hermione?"

"I will have you know that although she was a terribly annoying student, she has grown to be a good conversationalist."

"How would you know," Draco said, nearly melting into the worn cushions of Snape's couch.

"I ran into her a month ago. She made me dinner. Hugely pregnant. Let me tell you, I was sure she was going to catch the place on fire. Surprised me, she did. And she is a wonderful cook."

"Cooking is her new hobby," Draco said, wrinkling his nose. "She is incredible at it now, of course, but in the beginning… The fucking mushrooms. Wouldn't let it go. Couldn't stop making mushrooms until she could live off the slimy fuckers,"

Snape snorted. "Poor you,"

Draco nodded as if he really was, as if Snape hadn't been sarcastic. Snape rolled his eyes and kicked Draco's boots.

"Ready?"

Draco rose as if he was fifty years old and rolled his shoulders. "I can't remember the last time I slept through the night,"

Snape deadpanned, no pity at all in his gaze.

"What are we making today?"

"Remember the Experimental Amortentia?"

"How could I forget?" Draco chuckled, rubbing his hands together.

Fin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for disappearing. There were some RL, personal things.
> 
> We have made it! This is the last chapter. Can you believe it?
> 
> This has been such an amazing and fun journey. In the beginning, I had so much of this written. I've never had so much prewritten before starting to post. But I think it made this story all the better. I poured over the prewritten chapters, editing them, adding to them, turning 4k chapters into huge monster chapters at times.
> 
> I very much enjoyed the last six months of posting and of all of your comments. Thank you all.
> 
> Thank you to CJRed, the Alpha for this story. Your input was invaluable.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed the last chapter and that you have enjoyed the story as a whole. :)


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